My American Cousin
by Willa Mitty
Summary: A pseudosequel to Two Steps Behind . . . Who says Manticore had the world's only transgenic program? What happens when Zack, our favorite transgenic amnesiac, meets up with the progeny of Project 44? ML subplot. COMPLETE!
1. Project 44

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Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel. (I may wish that I did, but then again, if I did, I could hire someone to do this pile of laundry on my floor, rather than leaving it sitting there to evolve into a semi-intelligent life form.) Dark Angel and all characters, settings, etc. portrayed therein belong to such creative geniuses as James Cameron, Charles Eglee, and anyone else who might sue me if I didn't write this disclaimer. I do not own _Macbeth_, which is quoted in Chapter 19 and referenced in the title of Chapter 20, or the dead Englishman who wrote it. (Please note that Shakespeare was not a dead Englishman until _after_ he wrote the play. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused.) Nor do I own James Cameron. Rumor has it that he was recently purchased by Bill Gates for a measly 41 billion dollars. I do, however, claim this story line and anyone who has anything to do with Project 44. Especially Sergei and Mikhail. They are mine.

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Rating: R for language and one scene with sexual content. As for the first part, there's nothing that you wouldn't hear on the show, but some of you might not be fond of hearing it, hence the rating. As for the second, there's nothing that you wouldn't read in a smutty romance novel. (Well, a smutty romance novel in which the transgenic main character goes into heat, that is . . .)

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Genre: General, but it's actually a little bit of everything - action, humor, romance, a genetically targeted retrovirus, and a couple of people running around trying to kill other people. Nothing unusual, just another typical day in my life.

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Spoilers: Some Assembly Required, with a few insignificant references to The Berrisford Agenda and Borrowed Time, but I pulled the rest out of my tushy.

NOTES: Chapter One is more of a prologue. But since Fanfiction.net goes by chapters, I would have felt stupid naming it "Chapter One: Prologue." 

Yes, this does start out a little slow. I apologize for that, but I'm trying to establish the characters before I start to mess with them . . . 

This story sort of follows my first story, _Two Steps Behind_. I guess it'll still be understandable if you haven't read the first one, but it'll probably make more sense if you have read it, especially regarding Milly, Jondy, Brian, and "Reggie." For those of you who were worried about spoilers in _TSB_, it's now spoiler free. And if you read chapters 4-8 of _TSB_, everything should make sense.

Also note that this may be confusing at first, as several characters in this story will alternately be referred to by their given names and by their nicknames. I'll try to keep it clear.

**__**

My American Cousin

Chapter One:

Project 44

In August of 1998, the secret got out.

Somewhere in a remote government installation, American scientists were creating the perfect weapon . . . the perfect soldier . . . the perfect assassin, and the Coalition didn't like it. 

Of course no one really knew about the Coalition, either, but that was the point of its existence. Its members were military and political leaders from countries around the world, most of whom had traditionally been allies of the United States, but every good leader knows when to watch his back . . . and when to cover his ass. 

In all honesty, these countries had nothing to fear from Manticore or their newly developed weapon, but these leaders had everything to fear. While the U.S. would never openly attack their own countries (or have reason to), any one of them could become a potential target for holding the wrong opinions, for having the wrong political ties, or for simply being in the way, and that is why, one week later, an aging Russian geneticist named Alexander Voinovich was hired to create the solution. It was known only by its code name: Project 44.


	2. Three Simple Rules

Chapter Two:

Three Simple Rules 

__

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Katya sighed, lulled into a sense of peace by the rhythm of her jogging shoes on the dirt road beneath her feet. Here, in this peaceful morning in late March, life was simple. She could look around and enjoy the blossoming of spring without worrying about what may lie hidden in the underbrush. She could run for the joy of running, rather than running because her life depended upon it. 

But just because she could didn't mean that she did. If life had taught Katya anything, it was that you should never let your guard down. Never think about the things you want that you just can't have, never become too comfortable with your situation, and never tie yourself down so tightly that you can't run if you need to. Those were the three rules, the three rules she had learned to live by.

Giving the terrain another assessing glance, Katya sighed and shook her head, then lifted her face to sniff the air. Rain. She could smell it just as surely as she could feel her serial number itching. It always did that when it was going to rain, but she didn't know why. With a groan of frustration, she reached around between her shoulder blades. _Of all the places to put a serial number,_ she thought to herself. _You'd think Doctor would have put it somewhere where we could have reached it more easily . . . Doctor . . . _She frowned. When she'd awoken this morning, she'd known what the date was, but she'd been trying to ignore it all morning. Today was the twelfth anniversary of the day that her life had changed forever.

Katya knew the story of her own birth just as well as she knew the four digits permanently tattooed across her back. _44-01_, they said, and technically, that was who she was.

Scanning the edge of the road, she let her thoughts drift back through the years to Siberia in early spring of 2001, to the kind, wrinkled face that watched over her tiny body as she lay awake one night. In the back of her mind she could still see Doctor leaning over her crib, calling her by the name he had given her. _Yekaterina,_ came his ancient voice. _You must go to sleep now, or you'll awaken Sergei. _

Sergei, 44-02, her younger brother by six days. Doctor had named him too, just as he had named Mikhail, and then Tatiyana when they had been born a few weeks later.

Sighing, Katya looked down at her hands for the millionth time in her life and wondered whose they were. She knew who she was, and nothing would ever change that, but she also knew where she had come from. She was the product of stolen DNA and a little Russian ingenuity, a genetic miracle created from samples smuggled from a Manticore facility in America. Her genes had been altered, added to, taken away from, and generally improved upon so that when she and her brothers and sister were born, they were already years ahead of Manticore's technology. 

__

You were stolen, they had told her that night as she and her siblings had watched the only home they had ever known burning as it grew smaller and smaller through the back glass of the van._ You belong to Manticore._

Katya closed her eyes briefly against the memory. Somewhere out there, there was an X5, an X5 from whom she'd been created, just as Seryozha and Misha and Tanya had been created from others. She frowned, grasping a strand of medium brown hair that had escaped from her ponytail and tucking it behind her left ear. Chances were that she would never know anyway. Manticore was gone now, burned to the ground, and those who had escaped were scattered and in hiding. _Burned to the ground,_ she thought, _poetic justice if ever there was such a thing._ She and Sergei had seen the signal in the sky all those months ago, and they had followed it, hoping to save some of those who had been misled, but by the time they had reached the checkpoint, the signal had vanished. She wondered how many escapees had been tricked into their own deaths. 

She wondered if one of those unfortunate victims had been another version of herself. 

Rounding a bend in the road, she slowed to a walk. She'd only been going for about six miles, and she wasn't even beginning to tire, but the others had left the house later than she had. She'd slow down and enjoy the scenery while she waited for them to catch up. 

A hundred feet ahead the wood that occupied both sides of the dusty road gave way to open fields, and the sounds of men working flowed out across the meadows to her. Their scents drifted towards her and she lifted her head slightly to take them in. Sweat, dirt, hay. All of it mingled together. There were horses, too, somewhere off in the distance, and cattle as well. She could smell them, and something else . . . something familiar, yet illusive. Some combination of scents that she'd smelled before but couldn't quite place. Rounding another turn, her eyes fell on the men in the field.

There were three of them, all deep at work digging postholes to replace the posts of an old fence that had given way during the winter months. One was shirtless, completely disregarding the chill of the morning as he worked, but she couldn't see his face because he and one of the other men were facing in the opposite direction, but the third she could see clearly.

His hair was blonde and a little too long for her taste, but she imagined that, like most farmhands, he was too busy preparing for the coming season to care about such a trivial matter as a haircut. As she drew closer she noticed the sweat marks on his dirty white t-shirt, the dusty work gloves on his hands, and the determined expression on his face. It was obvious that he was completely absorbed in the task at hand.

Stopping in her tracks, she cocked her head to study them at work, but her eyes kept drifting back to the blonde haired man who faced her. She watched him intently as he went about his business, and suddenly his head lifted, and he gazed directly at her. 

His blue eyes met her green, and their gazes locked for one breathless moment. There was something about him that she couldn't quite figure out, and it only made her more curious. It was the cat in her, she decided, but the dog in her made her want to keep her distance . . . or maybe turn tail and run. As always, the feline in her DNA seemed to war with the canine, which was why Sergei said that she was always chasing herself around in circles. Butterflies flitted about in her stomach, but she didn't know why. _For heaven's sake, Katya, what's wrong with you? It's not like you've never seen a man before . . . _

His hands paused on the post he was steadying when he spotted her. Something twisted inside him, some half remembered memory . . . only he was somehow certain that he had never seen her before in his life. Still there was something about her . . . and he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away.

Katya jumped at the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Spinning into a fighting stance, she turned and prepared to defend herself, but she met only with laughter and relaxed when she saw it was only Sergei. Mikhail and Tatiyana stood behind him. His eyes were filled with laughter. "What's the matter, big sis? Never seen ranchers before?"

"Oh, of course I've seen ranchers before," she retorted, more than slightly annoyed at herself for being so absorbed in what she was watching that she hadn't heard them come up behind her. She watched as Tanya placed a hand on her hip, the smile sliding off her face as her brown eyes fell on the object of her sister's interest.

"Oh, Katya, you aren't--"

"No, of course I'm not." She sighed. "I'm not drooling over any of them. I was just watching, that's all." She frowned a bit at the thought, trying to remember the last time she'd gone into heat. She wasn't now, she knew, but how long would it be until the next time? She walked over to Misha and elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "I was waiting on you slowpokes. Do you know that guy grew a beard in the time I've been standing here waiting on you?"

With a laugh, Sergei took out after her, but she'd been expecting the move, and she was already racing off into the distance, her laughter joining his in the clear morning air. After a moment, they slowed, their laughter fading into the distance, and the four jogged on in a sort of loose formation, but Katya couldn't help but risk one last look back. She realized that he'd been watching her as their eyes met for a brief moment. Then she ripped her gaze away and moved on.

"Hey, blondie. Hello? Are you there?"

The man tore his gaze away from the figure of the woman as she and her three companions jogged away. He frowned.

"Thank you for holding the post. Now that it's buried, you don't really need to hold it for us, you know . . . unless, of course, you'd like to keep holding it. Ike and me could probably whip up some nice romantic music if you'd like a moment alone together . . . "

"Shut up." Slightly embarrassed, he let go of the post and stepped away, his mind still turning in circles at the memory of the woman he had just seen. So familiar, and yet . . . He risked a momentary glance back in the direction in which she had headed, but she was already gone. He shook his head. He didn't have time for this foolishness when there was work to be done, and they were already running behind. Turning, he moved down the fencerow to the next post and spent the rest of the morning trying rather unsuccessfully to put the event out of his mind.

At that very moment, miles away in the city of Seattle, a man in a long brown overcoat came to a decision. He looked down at the paper in his hand. A name and a phone number shown up at him in the barely legible scrawl that passed for his handwriting. The wind picked up as he stepped into the phone booth, causing the empty left sleeve of his jacket to flap a bit in the breeze. He scowled down at the place where his arm had once been. _Revenge._ Soon it would be his. Transferring the paper to his lips for a moment, he picked up the phone, then grasped the paper between his thumb and forefinger and dialed with his pinky. The phone rang several times before it was finally answered.

"Yes, I would like to speak with Mr. Ames White." His voice was raspy and caked in a thick Russian accent. "I have some information for him that I'm certain he will find to be of great interest." 


	3. Heat

Chapter Three:

  


Heat

  
  


Katya groaned and pulled the pillow over her face, wishing silently that she could smother herself with it and end her torment. One week ago, Tanya had asked if she was in heat again. She hadn't been then, but she certainly was now. She groaned again, throwing the useless pillow across the room and pulling the covers up over her head. 

The old farmhouse where the four of them lived was completely silent. Seryozha, Misha, and Tanya had all gone jogging, leaving her alone, which was a pretty good idea, considering. Maybe Sergei and Mikhail weren't her biological brothers, but they were her brothers just the same, and it just wasn't safe for them to be around. That was why she and Tanya slept in bedrooms on the second floor of one side of the house, while Sergei and Mikhail slept downstairs on the opposite side. It wasn't that anything had ever happened, or that anything necessarily would, but it was just too stressful to be releasing all those pheromones where Sergei and Mikhail might pick up on them and drive themselves crazy trying to fight their own genes. 

She tossed in bed again, her eyes moving from the wall on one side of her bedroom to the wall on the other. They seemed to be closing in on her. She had to get out of here and burn off some of this extra energy. She pulled on clothes and reached for her jogging shoes. _No, I can't go out. What if I run into someone and . . ._ She swallowed. As much as her hormones were controlling her actions right now, she could still remember how it felt to roll over and find herself naked with a total stranger, how much that hurt, how much she'd hate herself afterwards. 

She glanced out the bedroom window at the road below. She'd watched them leave this morning, so if she jogged in the other direction, she wouldn't run into her brothers. Besides, the dirt road was so deserted that her chances of meeting anyone were almost null. Even the farmhands who had been mending the fence were done now. No, she wouldn't run into anyone. She smiled with relief. She'd be just fine, and when she came home, she could slip up the back stairs and miss everyone. All she had to do was leave a note for Tanya . . .   
  
  


Several miles down the road, Katya was starting to feel better. She'd been running as fast as she could without it appearing suspicious to anyone who might see her, and now that her blood was circulating more, it was starting to take the edge off. Rounding a corner, she came to the field where the men had been fixing the fence. It was blessedly empty, but she couldn't help but conjure up the memory of the man she had seen that day. Of course now, she was thinking about him in different terms. 

He'd been pretty cute, and she remembered the way his hands had held the post. Strong hands . . . she shook her head. No, no need to go down that path, but she was still remembering the way the muscles on his arms had shown through the sleeves of his t-shirt. He'd smelled of sweat and hay and hard work. She groaned, putting the thought from her mind, but as she rounded the next corner, the scent came to her again, the mysterious half remembered smell of the other day. It nagged at her, teasing her to follow and investigate, and she gave in weakly. 

Up ahead she could see an old outbuilding. The paint, whipped by years of wind and rain, was nearly gone, and as the breeze drifted in her direction, she decided to have a closer look. That was definitely the source of the scent, and it was driving her crazy. She had to know what it was. She crept silently around the corner, stepping into the doorway, her breath freezing in her lungs at the sight before her.   
  
  


He was running through a mental checklist of all the things that he needed to accomplish that day. There was a cow out in the far pasture that had been looking ill this morning, and he wanted to get her in closer to the barn where they could keep an eye on her. After that he would have a look at the tractor that had died over by the barn and see if he could figure out what was wrong. Hopefully it wasn't anything that would need replacing because he didn't know when he would make time to . . . 

A shadow fell through the doorway and across the bail of hay beneath his hands. Puzzled, he looked down at the shadow for a moment. It was too short to belong to Jared or Ike. He looked up to see her, his eyes catching hers across the darkness of the room. Something clenched in his stomach. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. 

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he pushed the words out, though he hardly recognized the sound of his own voice in his ears. She said nothing, only stared back at him with those green eyes. Those deep, piercing green eyes . . . 

And suddenly, there was something in the air. He could smell it, or rather feel it. He wasn't quite sure which, but within a second it was there, the overwhelming need. His brain felt clouded, misty, as he fought to form a logical thought. He forced the air through his lungs. _Who is she? Why do I feel like this? What the hell is going on?_ His hands ached to touch her. Other things were starting to ache as well. He watched her chest rise and fall, panting as if she'd just run for miles and somehow couldn't catch her breath. He couldn't explain it, but he felt the same way. It was the excitement of the moment. He could taste it, he was certain, but that was the last logical thought to cross his brain as she took a step towards him. 

He met her halfway across the room. His trembling hands had already pushed her jacket down off her shoulders and down the length of her arms by the time their lips met, violently almost, as she pushed up against him, crushing his lips back against his teeth, but there was something about her, and he was already gone. Her hands pushed under his shirt, fluttering across the bare chest beneath, and their lips parted just long enough for her to drag it over his head. Neither heard the sound of ripping fabric, or if they did, neither cared. His own hands moved to pull the tail of her white t-shirt from her waistband. His hands roamed across her flat stomach, then moved upward along her ribcage, then farther upward still, but they were both growing impatient, and neither pulled away when he tried to pull the shirt over her head, so it ended up in shreds on the wooden plank floor. His mouth left hers to explore the skin he had just exposed. 

Her head was spinning, or maybe it was the room. She couldn't tell anymore, and she honestly didn't give a damn. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that something was different this time. His hands, his lips were everywhere. She couldn't seem to keep the sensations straight. Most of the men she had encountered during her heat cycles had at least shown some surprise, not that any had actually argued, but none had ever responded like this. Usually, this was her part, the rapid seduction, but this time it was backwards. For a moment she wondered whether it was she who was in heat or he, but as she felt herself being placed with surprising gentleness upon a tattered blue plastic tarp, all thought fled from her mind. She felt her jogging shorts being pulled down along her hips, felt them as they brushed her ankles, and then they vanished, replaced only by the feeling of drowning. It was like sinking in a sea, this utter need for air, only it wasn't the air that she needed. Their hands flew to the button on his jeans as his mouth moved back upward to fasten on hers again. She moaned against his lips in annoyance. Penetration. She wanted it now. Her hormones were screaming inside her head. Her body was trembling, tears streaming down her face, though she didn't notice. 

Later it would bewilder her, why everything seemed so completely out of control, why suddenly it felt as if there was something bigger than the both of them happening. Always there had been at least some semblance of control, and she had always held it, but something here had gone terribly wrong. She wasn't in control, but he wasn't either. She heard him sobbing against her neck as they moved together, and for a moment she didn't realize that the sounds were not her own. Fighting the instincts of her body, she raised one hand from his back, from the red marks her nails were leaving, and threaded it through his hair to pull his face down to hers, but for one moment, their eyes met and something twisted in her chest, and the breath caught in his throat. Then their lips met and the world spun away.   
  
  


Thoughts intruded within Katya's clouded mind. _Get up. Now._ Inwardly she groaned and opened her eyes, biting her lip at the sight of the naked man beside her. He was dozing softly in the hay, his face peaceful, almost childlike in sleep. She felt the bile rising in her throat. Shame. Self-disgust. She held back a retch and looked about for her clothes. She found her jogging shorts lying against the far wall beside her shoes, but her t-shirt and underwear were a lost cause. A tear trickled down her cheek at the realization of what she had just done. She had lost again. Her DNA had won. She grabbed her jacket and slipped it on, pulling it across her front to cover the essentials. She didn't want to use the zipper until she was away from here. She didn't want to wake him and have to face what she had just done. All she wanted was to run away. She grimaced at the squeak of the hinges on the barn door, zipped her jacket up to her neck, and ran like hell down the road.   
  
  


The sound of squeaking hinges woke him with a start. Sitting upright, he looked around him, but she was gone. He reached out for his jeans, wincing slightly at the painfully tender flesh on his back. _What the hell just happened?_ he asked himself. _Well,_ he thought with a bewildered frown, _I know what happened . . ._ He pulled on his jeans and reached for his shirt, noticing that the scratch marks on his back had already scabbed over. Beside his shirt lay the remnants of her clothes. _Shit. What the hell did I do to her?_ He worked with his hands, and he'd seen his own strength, and he was suddenly very afraid of what he might have done. 

Pulling open the barn door, he looked off in one direction down the road, and then in the other, but there was no sign of her anywhere. Frowning in bewilderment, he walked over to pick up her shredded clothing from the floor. He stared down at the shirt before rubbing the soft cotton against his face. It smelled lightly of . . . peppermint, was it? And something else that made his head pound again. He sighed, giving the road another longing glance. The guys would ask too many questions, and he didn't really think they needed to be answered . . . especially when he didn't know how to answer them himself.   
  
  


Katya only made it a quarter of a mile before the need to vomit overcame her need to get away. Tears stung her cheeks as she leaned into the bushes and emptied the contents of her stomach. _Again, God, I did it again._ She hated herself for it. _Why does it always have to be this way?_ she sobbed silently. _Why, just once, why can't it be about love? Why is it always about hormones?_ She choked back another sob. This . . . encounter with a stranger had been nowhere near making love, and to be honest, it hadn't even been sex. Humans had sex. Animals just mated, and that was exactly what this had been, mating without a single moment of thought. Leaning back against a tree, she let the tears flow freely.   
  
  


When he came to the edge of the field, he figured that it was as safe a place as any. Taking out the trowel he'd stuck in his back pocket, he began to dig. He felt ridiculous doing this, but he didn't really need female undergarments hanging around to make him the brunt of jokes, and the quickest thing he could think to do was to bury them.   
  
  


Katya sniffled through her tears, catching a familiar scent with it. She smelled him. Peeking wide-eyed around the tree at the edge of the road, she saw him standing only a few yards away. He'd followed her, Katya thought in panic, only to realize belatedly that he was burying something. His back was facing her, so she leaned farther out to watch him from an angle at which he wouldn't be able to see her. 

She saw it the moment that his scent hit her again, and suddenly it all made sense. _Pheromones,_ she realized. Just like tomcats followed a female in heat, he'd done the same with her. No wonder they'd reacted the way they had. She groaned, belatedly realizing that his sensitive hearing would pick up on the noise. She slipped back behind the tree as he turned, and she held her breath as she directed a silent prayer heavenward.   
  
  


He shook his head. His mind must be playing tricks on him. Turning back to the task at hand, he slipped the dirt back into place and stared off towards the horizon, a piece of her shirt still in his hand. Somehow, he couldn't seem to let it go. _What the hell just happened?_ he wondered in confusion. His brain still didn't feel as if it was functioning. _Who was she? Where is she? Why the hell did that happen? What am I? Some teenager who can't control his own raging hormones?_ The memory of her face came to mind, triggering other memories, mysterious images from half-remembered dreams. He shook his head. Dreams, that was all they were, just dreams. 

"Hey," a voice echoed from the direction of the barn. "What the hell are you doing out there, blondie?" 

"None of your damned business," he yelled back.   
  
  


Katya peeked back around the tree to watch his retreating figure and sniffed the air one last time. _Cat,_ she thought,_ cat and human, not cat and dog and human. That's why I didn't recognize it. It's just different enough that I couldn't pick up on it._ She grimaced at the sight of the barcode shining out through the torn shirt collar on the back of his neck. _X5. Great. Just great._ Shaking her head, she turned and vanished into the woods.   
  
  


As he reached the barn, the man known as Adam Thompson turned and glanced back down the road for a moment before returning to work. He fingered the piece of cloth in his hand. He could feel it in his bones. He didn't understand what had just happened, and he had no clue who the woman was, but he was going to find out, and somewhere deep inside, something told him that if his questions were ever answered, nothing in his life would ever be the same again. 


	4. Classified Information

Chapter Four:

Classified Information

White scowled as he watched the one-armed man hobble out the door of his office, a cane clasped firmly in his hand and favoring one leg. This was an interesting development, indeed, and he was not happy about it, not in the least. 

Though White appeared to be calm, the young man who served as his new assistant kept a close eye on his boss. He knew that there was a storm brewing beneath the surface, especially after what he had just learned, and he prepared himself for a possible outburst. 

"Why was I not informed of this?" White finally asked without turning. His voice sounded calm, controlled. His assistant swallowed nervously. 

"Sir, it . . . it wasn't in the records. We didn't know." White seemed to ponder this for a moment. Turning, he cocked his head to the side and reached out to take the memo pad from his assistant. He perused the notes for a moment, then paced across the room, seated himself behind his desk, and reached for the phone. His assistant breathed a sigh of relief as he watched White dial a series of numbers from memory. He didn't offer a friendly greeting when the person on the other end answered.

"Russian transgenics," he began in curt annoyance. "Why was I not informed?" There was a pause as the person on the other end of the line responded. "If you want me to do this job, you have to keep me informed of what the job entails." He glanced down at the notes his assistant had made during his meeting with the one armed Russian. _Project 44,_ they said, _four subjects - two male, two female, created in Siberia -2001, obtained by Manticore - March '09, currently at large. _He returned his gaze to the doorway of his office. "What do you mean? They escaped in '17, and were never recaptured?" A pause. "So did they escape on their own, or were they recaptured by the other side?" Another slight pause. "What do you mean 'you don't know?'" White's assistant took a step backwards. He could hear his boss's voice rising. "You _'assumed_' that they'd returned to their _'original command?'_ Never assume with these freaks. Never assume anything." He stared back down at he paper. "What would you do if I told you that I had a report that they are still in the country? They didn't defect. They weren't recaptured by the other side. They just walked out on you." There was another pause, much longer this time, as White pondered what the person on the other end of the line said. "Then get someone with _proper clearance_ to pull those _classified documents_ of yours and get them to me so that I can do my job." With that, he rattled off an address and a time later on that afternoon. Then he slammed the phone back into its cradle and reached for his coat.

"We're going to Seattle," he barked to his assistant, "and hurry up. I don't have all day."

Sighing, Katya gazed out the window at the rivulets of rain as they impacted against the glass and slid downward towards the windowsill. The mug of hot tea in her hands had gone cold. It wasn't enough to warm the cold in her soul. Nothing was.

In the next room, Sergei and Tatiyana were watching television. She could hear the laugh track of an old sitcom through the wall, and Mikhail, she knew, was halfway through _War and Peace_, but she also knew that no one was paying attention to the television, and she'd noticed that Misha hadn't turned a page in the past two days. 

She sighed again, glad to be in another room. Even though they were her siblings, they were also her group, and even though, over the years, her place as group leader had changed into the role of big sister, she still didn't want them to see her weakness. She had to be the strong one. She always had been. She hated knowing that they were worried about her, but somehow, she felt too empty to care.

To be honest, she was tired of it all. Just once in her life, she wanted to feel normal. She wanted to have a normal life, one that didn't require her to look over her shoulder constantly. She wanted someone other than her siblings to know what she was and to love her anyway. She wanted to erase the last three days of her life. She wanted to not go into heat several times a year.

Again she thought of the encounter two days earlier. She hadn't said a word to anyone, not even Tanya, but she knew that they knew. When she'd practically flown through the back door and up the stairs, they'd known what had happened, and as always, they hadn't known what to do. That evening, Sergei had disappeared for a few hours and returned with some flowers, which he had silently left outside her bedroom door. Misha had left an offering of chocolate covered peppermint patties, which had made her smile, but only for a moment. Lord only knew where he had managed to find those, but it was sweet of them both, trying to make her feel better. Too bad it hadn't worked. Candy and flowers couldn't heal this, but the thought was important. Someday they were going to make two women . . . _no!_ she thought broken-heartedly, _never us. We spend our lives on the run. That'll never be an option for us._ Setting aside the mug, she hugged her knees to her chest and glanced sadly back out at the falling rain. With every day that passed, she wished a little more that it _was_ an option. 

Her thoughts drifted back to X5-599. _Zack_, she remembered. That's what Manticore had said he called himself. She wondered if he felt the same, living in a world that was a lie? He'd spent half of his life running. Did he ever tire of it all and wish for something more? She sighed, wondering if he knew who or what she was, or if he even knew thather kind existed? He wouldn't have recognized her, she knew. He had already escaped by the time she and the others had been brought to Manticore, but could he possibly know that he was the reason they had been able to escape in the first place?

Pulling her gaze away from the drizzling rain, she turned to see Tanya standing in the doorway, a worried expression on her face. She sighed. Wordlessly, Tanya made her way across the room to the sofa and gave her sister a hug. She sat down beside her, tucking her feet beneath her body, her dark head tilted to the side.

"Are you okay, sis? We've . . . well, we've been worried about you." She frowned again, glancing downward in guilt. She knew exactly what Katya was feeling. She'd been there herself. "It's my fault, really. I should have stayed here with you. I'm sorry." She raised her head and met her sister's gaze. Katya sighed and shook her head.

"No, it's not. It's Doctor's . . . well, Manticore's. Doctor never would have left us like this if he realized it would happen." Tanya sighed, taking one of her sister's hands between her own. She hesitated a moment before speaking.

"That guy at the ranch, right? The one you were watching the other day?" Katya shrugged, then nodded sadly, glancing back out at the falling rain for a moment. "Well, he did have a nice ass . . . " Taken off guard for a moment, Katya turned back to her sister and gave a short, bitter laugh. "What?" Tanya asked with mock innocence. "Well . . . he did . . . " Katya smiled sadly.

"X5-599," she said after a moment. Tanya gave her a puzzled look.

"Huh?" 

Katya turned and glanced down the road, towards the ranch, and Tanya's jaw dropped open. "You're kidding me. That was _him?_" Katya nodded sadly. "I knew I smelled something," she muttered, then a smile eased its way across her face. "Well, damn, let's call Manticore and tell them we found him." Tanya acted as though she were about to reach for the phone. Katya laughed. Neither of them planned to do any such thing. 

"It only took us four years, huh?"

Tanya nodded and raised her eyebrows. "Well, hell, if I'd known he was that cute, I might have tried to convince you guys to follow orders and hunt them down like we were supposed to, instead of just vanishing." She grinned devilishly. "Wonder how cute the other guys . . . " That earned her a sharp jab in the ribs from Katya's elbow. Katya smiled lightly for a moment, then sobered.

"I'm going to have to go talk to him now." Tanya tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her sister. "He's running from the same people we are," Katya explained with a shrug. "Maybe if we both keep an eye out we can let each other know if something happens." Tanya frowned.

"Do think that's wise? Do you think we can trust him?"

__

Manticore. Assassins. Enemies. Murderers. General's words rang in Katya's ears. She frowned. "He left Manticore because he couldn't stand to stay. He's living the same life we are." She shrugged, knowing that Tanya was remembering the things they'd been taught as children and the horrors they'd encountered later on at Manticore. She put a hand atop one of her sister's. "He's no more Manticore than we are now, Tanya. He's made his own life, just like we have." 

After a moment of silence, Tanya nodded in agreement, and they turned their gazes out at the pouring rain. _Do they all have lives of their own?_ Katya wondered as she gazed out at the blur of the landscape through the pouring rain. _Where are they now, after twelve years of freedom? Were any of them brave enough to settle down and make families of their own . . . and do any of them have the same beautiful blue eyes as 599 . . ._

Several hours later, White stood on a street corner in Seattle, scowling through the pouring rain which fell with a vengeance against the hood of his raincoat and traveled downward to puddle at his feet. His shoes were wet too, and he was annoyed. He hated this city, with all of its filthy streets, its busy people, its dirty homeless. The sooner the Committee sent his contact with the information, the sooner he could leave. 

He frowned at the site of an old man begging for change beneath the outcropping of a roof across the street, a tattered hat in one hand, a bottle in the other. _What a waste,_ he thought. Turning his gaze in another direction, his eyes fell on a young boy in ragged clothes as he moved down the street from one trashcan to another, but his mind was elsewhere. Inside, he was fuming.

Several months ago, he had been assigned to do this job, to clean up the mess left behind when Project Manticore had gone public. He scowled down at his watch. His contact was late, and he was getting tired of fooling around. He would do the job he'd been hired to do, but he was tired of the secrets. He couldn't cover them up unless he was told about them.

A stray dog sniffed its way along the street, glancing briefly up at him with a hopeful expression on its face, but the cold look in his eyes sent it backing away in the other direction_. Dirty, diseased mutt_, he thought.

"You should not stand out in the rain so, my son. You'll catch cold." Startled, White turned to see that he had been joined by a nun. Usually, people didn't sneak up on him like that. He must be having an off day.

"I'm waiting for someone." He tried not to appear friendly. He wanted her to leave before his contact arrived. They didn't need a witness. Glancing sideways at her, he tried to assess whether she might be perceived as a threat, even if she was just a nun. It was a habit he had developed over the years, one that had kept him in control of every situation. It took him only a moment to decide that she wasn't a risk. 

She stood, slightly bent over as she tried to cover herself with an old black umbrella. A sprig of gray peeked from beneath her headpiece, and he wondered sarcastically how many of the homeless 'her holiness' had been feeding lately if she ended up with a stomach like that. She nodded at him and stuck out a shaky gloved hand. "Sister Rachel, from St. Clare's."

He frowned. She was just a nun. What could it hurt? "Ames White."

"You remind me of the priest who arrived yesterday at the church." She smiled, patting him on the arm. "A fine young man. Would you like to share my umbrella, Mr. White?"

"No. I'm fine. I have a business meeting in a moment or two."_ Go away . . . _"I'm trying to organize my thoughts." She frowned.

"Then I will leave you, Mr. White. Good luck on your meeting. God bless you, my son," she said, patting his hand. Then she turned slowly on her ancient legs and began to walk away. As she hobbled around the corner, his contact finally appeared across the street. Seeing the briefcase in his hand, White crossed over to meet him, and they ducked into an alley.

Neither was aware that they were being watched.


	5. Unexpected Visitors

Chapter Five:

  


Unexpected Visitors

  
  


Logan Cale returned from the market to find a black cat using his bathroom and a nun eating a sandwich on his sofa. It didn't phase him in the least. In the end, he did what any well-mannered underground cyberjournalist would do. He offered her something to drink. 

"So," he began conversationally as he finished putting away his purchases, "interesting outfit." The nun chuckled and pulled off the baggy headpiece and the gray wig beneath it, then raked a hand through her blonde hair before tossing a piece of the sandwich towards her cat. 

"Sister Sophia made me take it. She said it might come in handy." She smiled. "I figure that, for a while at least, I had the honor of being the world's only transgenic nun." Logan seated himself in a nearby chair. 

"What brings you to Seattle?" He knew the answer. He just wanted news. 

Jondy tossed another piece of the sandwich towards her cat and raised an eyebrow. "Oh . . . just passing through . . . " She chuckled lightly, knowing exactly what it was that he wanted to hear. "Relax, ok? I just brought the last part of the virus breakdown up from San Francisco and gave it to Dr. Carr. I also stopped by to visit my baby sister, so I could bring him a blood sample, too." 

"How is she?" He tried not to look too anxious. Jondy put down her sandwich. 

"No different than when you'd called an hour earlier." She smiled and chuckled softly. "Sound asleep, but Original Cindy gave me the blood sample she took last night. I'm going to swing by this evening and get another one." Logan frowned. Max didn't sleep much, so it wasn't natural for her to . . . 

Jondy reached out and touched his arm. "Hey, don't worry, alright? She'll be fine." She frowned. Logan didn't seem to be believing her. "Her body's just going through a lot right now, that's all. As soon as her system gets clean, she'll be as good as new." Logan nodded. He certainly hoped that was true, but until her body was done fighting off the genetically engineered virus in her bloodstream, he would still have to worry. He hadn't seen her for nearly a week, not since Dr. Carr had given her the first injection of the serum he'd received from the ex-Manticore lab tech in California, the serum that had caused her immune system to recognize the dormant virus in her bloodstream as a threat. He didn't even want to know how the stuff worked. He figured that tinkering with genetically engineered immune systems was way beyond his understanding anyway. "Just a few more days, Logan." 

_Just a few more days . . ._ What were a few measly days? It felt as if he hadn't touched her in a million years, and those 'few more days' felt like ten million. He sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor at his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jondy's cat rubbing against his leg. He reached down to scratch her behind her ears. _Life is strange,_ he thought. He could walk with his exoskeleton, but he couldn't feel a cat rubbing its head against his leg, and something so ordinary as petting a cat, shaking hands, even the most innocent of physical contact, had been denied to him and Max. His life had just gotten stranger and stranger ever since the day a certain bewitching cat burglar had broken into his apartment to steal a statue . . . not that he was complaining, of course. Jondy frowned across the room at them. 

"For God's sake, Milly, must you flirt with every man you find?" Milly took a step away from Logan, sat down on her feline bottom, and glared at her owner. "I'm not taking you to Jam Pony with me if you're just going to sit there and bat your eyes at Reggie." At that, Milly emitted a feline "hmmph" and stalked away, the tip of her tail flicking in annoyance as she gave Jondy the cold shoulder. 

Jondy shook her head. "I had her fixed the other week, and she just can't find it in her heart to forgive me." Logan chuckled as he watched her finish her sandwich and toss her napkin in the trash. 

"I think I'd probably feel the same way." 

"It's not like she had a sex life anyway . . . She seems to think I'm going to get myself fixed too . . . " she chuckled. "Fat chance, girl." Reaching for her backpack, she headed to Logan's bathroom to change her clothes. 

Logan glanced over at his phone, resisting the urge to call Max's apartment yet again. The last time he'd called, Original Cindy had said, "Don't worry. She's fine, just sleepin', but if you call m' boo and wake her up again, Original Cindy's gonna have to put the smackdown on yo' ass." She'd sounded pretty annoyed. He didn't know if he wanted to risk it. 

"Oh, by the way, I ran into a friend of Max's on the way over," Jondy began as she emerged from the bathroom several moments later in jeans and a sleeveless high-necked shirt, her backpack slung casually over one shoulder. "A Mr. Ames White, or so he very politely introduced himself." Logan's head jerked up. 

"What?" 

"He was standing out on a street corner in the rain. Once I figured out who he was I decided to do a little investigating." Seeing the expression on his face, she shrugged. "Don't worry. He didn't know I was there." Then she frowned, leaning her shoulder against the doorjamb. "Something's up, but I couldn't exactly tell what. White was getting records about something, some special project Manticore had going, from what I could tell. All I caught were snippets about 'four subjects' of something called 'Project 44.'" She frowned again. "I just got the feeling that there was something else up, like there was something really important about them, whoever they are." 

"Manticore had a lot of things going on. You'd have thought that White would have known something earlier. The powers that be must have been keeping it under wraps." He wrinkled his brow in thought. 

Jondy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and they didn't want people to know about us. It must have been big if they didn't even tell White." 

Logan frowned, rising from his chair and reaching for the phone. "I'll have to call Sebastian. Maybe he'll know something." 

Jondy shrugged. She didn't have a clue who Sebastian was, but if Logan was going to ask him about this, he must already be in the loop about Manticore. "Good idea. I'll stop by later. Let me know if you hear anything." She dropped one corner of her mouth into a lopsided frown. "There's no point in giving Max anything else to worry about right now." 

"Yeah," Logan said, glancing down at the phone is his hand and resisting the urge to call again. He sighed. 

Unzipping her backpack, Jondy lowered it to the floor, waiting patiently as Milly appeared from the kitchen doorway and hopped into her pouch. "Mouse-breath," Jondy teased affectionately as she shouldered the backpack again. 

"Jondy? Could you . . . send Max my . . . regards?" 

Jondy chuckled as she headed for the door. "I ain't kissin' her, Cale," she called back to him, "so don't even think about it . . . "   
  
  


Katya stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and stared down the hill at the barn below. The light breeze played with her loose hair as she scanned the building. He was inside. She'd watched him enter the building alone half an hour earlier, and he hadn't left yet. For the life of her, she didn't know why she was here. 

She sighed. "What do you think you're doing, Katya?" she asked herself in Russian. Oh, she'd told herself over and over again that this was necessary, necessary for her siblings' safety, for 599's safety, and for her own, but she knew that wasn't the whole truth. In reality, it was only an excuse, an excuse for something else that she wasn't quite ready to admit to yet. "Maybe I just need my head examined," she answered herself in English a moment later. She shook her head. "Bite the bullet, girl. Bite the bullet." 

As she stepped into the barn, she allowed her eyes a second to adjust to the darkness within. Off to her left, several storage rooms had been built out into the main room, taking up a section of floor space and creating a wall that blocked part of the barn's interior from her view. Directly in front of her stood another storage room of some sort, its door hanging slightly ajar. She was assaulted by a thousand smells all at once: horses, liniment, hay, leather, sweat . . . and him, but she couldn't smell anyone else. He was alone. She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to run. _No,_ she had decided to do this, and she wouldn't chicken out now. Sniffing the air, she turned her head towards the far end of the building. He was there, she could smell him. 

A sound broke through the silence, a soft, comforting crooning. She stepped forward to peek around the corner, nearly losing her nerve as she spotted him standing next to a stall along the back wall. She stopped to listen. 

"There you go. That wasn't so bad, now was it, beautiful? Of course not. You keep on taking your medicine, and in just a few more days, you'll be out working with the rest of us." He rubbed the mare's face affectionately. Stretching out her neck, the mare nuzzled him back, obviously pleased by his attentions. 

Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. It wasn't that he heard someone, or that he saw anything, it was more the feeling of being watched, almost like some inborn sixth sense, and he spun around to find the feeling's source. That was when he saw her. She was standing beside an old toolbox, her eyes resting on him cautiously, and he got the strangest feeling that their green depths weren't missing a single detail. 

He wasn't quite sure what to think. He wondered for a moment if she were no more than a mere apparition, a figment of his own imagination. He'd been wishing to see her again, but he hadn't honestly expected for her to come back. At least his head wasn't spinning the way it had several days ago, but he still didn't seem to be able to think clearly, and if she were real, why _had_ she come back? What did she want? He watched as she nibbled nervously on her lower lip. Apparitions didn't do that, did they? She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated for a moment. 

It was one of the most awkward moments of Katya's life. She'd spent hours planning what she needed to say to him, rehearsing her little speech over and over again, but suddenly she couldn't find the right words, and she was certain that _"Sorry I walked in on you while I was in heat the other day, so has anybody come around lately acting like they wanted to kill some transgenics?"_ just wasn't going to work either. She groaned inwardly, feeling like a complete and utter fool. _What on earth is wrong with me?_

"Hi," she finally said. It was all she could think to say. _Okay, Katya, that was really pathetic. . ._

"Hi," he answered numbly, not quite sure what else to say. Another moment of silence ticked by. Katya glanced down at her hands. 

"Look, I came by to talk . . . " She took a deep breath and raised her head. "About the other day-" 

"I'm really sorry," he interrupted, looking a little embarrassed. He couldn't seem to make eye contact with her. 

_"You're sorry?"_ Katya blinked at him in confusion. It had been her fault, that she knew. If she had stayed put at the house, none of it would have happened. 

"I could have . . . what I mean is . . . " he trailed off, fumbling over his own words. "Are you okay?" He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and for a moment she remembered the intense look in his eyes as his lips had met hers. She shook off the memory. 

_What? _ "Yeah." A pause. "You?" 

"Yeah." 

Katya nibbled on her lip for another moment. "I'm sorry. I was just in this really weird . . . mental state . . . " She shook her head. 

"Me, too." He guessed that was as good of a description as any. He hadn't been trying to describe what he'd been feeling at the time. 

Another minute of awkward silence ticked by. She watched as a grin began to emerge on his face. He stepped forward and offered her his hand. "Adam Thompson." 

_Is that what he calls himself now . . ._ She stared at his hand for a second before accepting it. She wondered why the feel of his callused palm sent goosebumps up her arm. "Yekaterina Voinovich. Katya for short." 

He raised an eyebrow. "Russian, eh? No accent?" He couldn't seem to keep his gaze from her eyes. 

"Well, sort of. I . . . that is my brothers and my sister and I . . . we've been in this country since I was eight, but it still comes out sometimes." She shrugged, feeling a bit unnerved by the way he was looking at her. 

"Just the four of you, huh?" She saw a strange expression settle on his face, as if he was trying to remember something, but he shook it off. 

"You?" He shrugged. 

"I'm an only child." Seeing the expression on his face, she decided not to question him further. 

Katya watched as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a medicine bottle of some sort, and took a step towards the feed room. Glancing back, he motioned her to follow. _How do I start this conversation?_ she wondered. "So how long have you worked here?" she asked, wondering how to explain it all to him. 

"About three years," he answered. "I can't remember exactly how long, but that's a good estimate." He slowed his pace to allow her shorter steps to catch up with his own. 

_Three years in one place? Risky . . ._ Had he dropped his guard too much, or was that just his story? She'd have to check it out. "Are you from around here?" She watched the frown materialize on his face. 

"No, the East Coast, actually . . . I think." He knitted his eyebrows together in thought. 

"You think?" She cocked her head to the side, watching the strange expression cross his face. 

"I was in this accident a few months back." He shook his head sadly. "I must have hit my head pretty hard because I ended up with amnesia. A lot of things still haven't come back. I'm wondering if they ever will." 

Katya felt her jaw drop and slammed it closed again. _He doesn't even know who he is!_ "That's horrible. But you were okay . . . " 

"Yeah, I'm okay. No lasting damage, except for the memory of course." 

_Hmmmm . . ._ "So . . . you don't remember anything? Nothing at all?" He shook his head again as he reached up to place the bottle on a shelf. 

"Sometimes I remember things, but they don't make sense. It's like I can't remember what's just a dream, and what's reality." Lowering his arm, he frowned and squinted his eyes in thought. "I remember being in a hospital. There were other kids there, too, I think. I remember a lot of shaved heads and hospital gowns, and I remember running through the snow barefoot. Weird, huh?" 

"Yeah, pretty weird . . . " _But nowhere near as weird as the truth._

"Buddy, the guy who owns this ranch, he said it was when I was a kid. I had leukemia, and I was in this ward with a bunch of other sick kids. Apparently there was a fire one night, and we all had to run out of the building in the snow." He shrugged. "I don't really remember any of it." 

"Really?" She frowned. 

"I don't even remember the gang." The hint of a smile touched his face, almost as if the thought amused him in some way. 

"Gang?" 

"Yeah. I was apparently in a gang. That's where I got this weird tattoo." He turned and pulled aside the collar of his shirt, exposing his barcode to her view. "It must have been a boring gang. I don't remember much of it," he said with a chuckle. "I remember being in a few fights, and running from the cops, but that's all." 

"Sounds pretty exciting to me." She smiled nervously. _What the hell is going on?_ she wondered. This Buddy person had to know the truth if he was making up these lies for Zack, but why? Was he trying to protect him? Wouldn't it be safer to tell him the truth and let him _know_ that there were people out there trying to kill him? 

"And you don't remember anything else?" 

A distant expression filled his eyes. "Faces sometimes, but no names. And then sometimes something looks familiar, only I can't place it. Like you." He turned to offer her a smile. Her stomach fluttered a little. "There's something familiar about you that I haven't been able to place. Somehow, I know I've never met you before . . . . " he trailed off, thinking of their only other previous meeting, "but still there's something familiar. You remind me of someone I knew once." He knitted his eyebrows together in thought. "I think." 

He swept his gaze over her once again, trying to place the memory. Why did she seem so strange and yet so familiar at the same time? The only thing he knew was that he'd never seen that look in her eyes before, because if he had, he would never have been able to forget them. 

Katya frowned. She wondered if he was remembering the other X5, the source of her own DNA. While the thought intrigued her, it also annoyed her, but she didn't know quite why. He was watching her, she realized, analyzing her with those beautiful blue eyes. She could feel his gaze all the way down to her toes, and she wondered just what he might be remembering. After a moment, he shook his head and smiled. "Hey, I want to show you something." He led her out of the storage room and across the barn, stopping at the door to an empty stall situated against the opposite wall. Opening the door, he motioned her to enter. Katya wasn't quite sure what to expect, but what she found was a surprise. 

"Kittens," she said with a smile as she knelt down in the hay. Four tiny kittens, eyes still closed to the world, slept against their mother's gray and orange stomach. The calico, seeking attention, stood and mewed in annoyance at Adam until he scratched her behind the ears. Her kittens, abruptly awoken from their nap began to crawl about in search of their warm pillow. Katya reached down and ran a finger over one of their soft little heads, then turned to Adam with a smile. Her smile faded as she watched the bewildered frown cross his face. "What's wrong?" Adam shook his head as he squatted down beside her. 

"Just this feeling . . . I think I had a cat once . . . or I knew someone with a cat, a black one . . . Molly? Milly? Milly. That's it." He knitted his brow in thought. "She was black. I remember." He shook his head and reached down to pick up a little black kitten that had wandered away from its siblings. 

_Killers. Murderers._ General's words rang in Katya's ears, but as she watched him place the kitten tenderly against the squirming pile of its siblings, she couldn't believe it. Even if he couldn't remember who he was, how could violence and cruelty exist in his nature? He turned his head to offer her a smile, then smoothed a fingertip over the kitten's tiny body. 

Katya stood, suddenly uncomfortable in his presence, but not quite sure why. She wiped her dusty hands on her jeans. "I should probably go." He turned his head to look up at her. 

_Will I see you again?_ The words almost passed his lips, but he held them back, and somehow, without even hearing them, she answered his unspoken question. 

"Don't worry," she said, as she took a step backwards, "I'll be around." 

Standing, he took a hesitant step forward, as if suddenly trying bridge the growing distance between them. "It was nice meeting you, Katya." 

"You too . . . Adam." 

He smiled as she backed away, not knowing that the expression had caused the sensation of butterflies in her stomach, a sensation that matched the fluttering in his own. Then he frowned as he watched her walk away, wondering desperately why she seemed so familiar. 


	6. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Chapter Six:

  


What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

  
  


Adjusting the straps on her backpack, Jondy grinned as she took in the mayhem before her. Only Jam Pony could look like this. 

"Well, hello there, beautiful. Welcome to Jam Pony. What may I do for you this afternoon?" Jondy turned to glare at the man behind her, but she ended up frowning at him instead. _Shadow puppets on the walls after lights out. Bedtime stories. The Blue Lady._ She knew his face, though it had been younger then . . . and it had belonged to someone else. _The most annoying person on the face of the Earth,_ Max had said. 

"Let me guess. Alec, right?" He raised an eyebrow and looped an arm about her shoulders. 

"So you've heard of me then?" 

"You could say that." She scanned the room, searching for one person in particular, a person who was not the person beside of her. 

On the other side of the room she overheard a messenger regaling two companions with the story of a woman who answered the door in lingerie. She rolled her eyes. _Men._ Over by the lockers, a woman in a yellow jacket was glancing shyly at a blonde man on the other side of the room, but he wasn't paying attention to her. He was too busy staring mournfully at a brunette by the television to notice, but the brunette was too busy with her boyfriend to notice him. Jondy glanced back at the blonde man, silently urging him to just turn his head towards the lockers. Why was it that people always ignored what was in front of them and longed for something else? 

"Well, I certainly hope they were all good things . . ." Alec flashed her a smile. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" Her stomach dropped for a moment as the memory came back. _You have the most amazing blue eyes . . . I could just drown in them,_ Brian had said. She managed a small smile and turned to look Alec in the eye. 

"Yeah," she said, her smile growing a little wider. "He did." 

Alec watched in bewilderment as she slid out from under his arm and walked across the room to the cooler, where his boss was getting a soda. Alec was still frowning when Sketchy walked over to join him. 

"So, who's the babe?" 

"I don't know . . . " Alec was beginning to feel like he was missing the punch line of a bad joke. They watched as Jondy tapped Normal on the shoulder, the smile on her face widening when he turned. Looping an arm around his waist, she led Normal back into his office and closed the door. 

Two jaws dropped open. 

"Normal got the babe?" Sketchy asked incredulously. "No way . . . "   
  
  


Jondy didn't bother to take a chair. After letting Milly out of her backpack, she simply sat down on the corner of Normal's desk with a familiarity that would have made Sketchy's blood boil with envy. Normal took a sip of his soda and reached for his lunch. 

"I see you've hired new help," she began. Jondy always came to visit him when she was in Seattle, and it had only been a month or two since her last visit. "Honestly, Reggie, you keep this up and every one of your employees is going to be sporting a barcode." Normal shrugged. 

"Well, he used to be a fighter. I'm a fan . . ." He took a bite out of his sandwich, intentionally ignoring Milly, who was eyeing his lunch with interest. 

Jondy grinned. "I could take him." Normal tilted one corner of his mouth upward. He'd seen Jondy in action a time or two. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if you could. Just don't pick a fight here, or I'll never get all of these packages delivered." He glanced down at Milly and frowned. "What's your problem?" The cat tried to look hungry. "Oh for the love of Mike . . ." He pulled off a piece of his sandwich and tossed it towards the cat. "Now leave me alone." Jondy chuckled. Normal shook his head and cleared his throat. "So, how's your sister?" he asked after a moment. He returned his attention to the sandwich, as if trying to downplay his interest in Max. Jondy chuckled. _You old softy,_ she thought. 

"She'll be alright. The blood samples are looking pretty good. Dr. Carr says that with all the antibodies bouncing around in her system, the virus should be gone by tomorrow, but he wants to keep an eye on her for a few days, just to be sure." Jondy smiled. "By the way, it was nice of you to let Original Cindy take time off to stay home with her . . ." 

"Well, if I didn't, I never would have heard the end of it," he grumbled, his head lowered. "And I don't need her hanging around if her mind is elsewhere. She's unproductive enough as it is . . ." 

Jondy chuckled. "Right . . . I could stay at home and take care of Max for the next few days . . ." Normal cleared his throat and took a drink of his soda. 

"Well, since you're visiting, I wouldn't want to tie you down if you had other plans . . . " He cleared his throat again. 

"You old softy," she chuckled.   
  
  


Alec was still standing by the wall when they came out of Normal's office. He shook his head and walked across the room to meet her. Life just wasn't fair. 

"So, you've got a thing going with Normal, huh?" Jondy laughed at the thought. 

"God, no. Reggie's just a friend." 

"Reggie?" This was getting ridiculous. Alec shook his head. There was just no accounting for some girls' tastes . . . 

Normal walked across the room with his clipboard, slapped a package into Alec's hands, and turned back towards his office. "Hot run," he called back over his shoulder. "1622 Brewster. And I mean hot run, as in 'should have been delivered yesterday.'" Alec frowned as he watched Normal walk away. 

He tapped the package against his left palm. "Well, I guess that's my cue . . . " 

Jondy chuckled, turning her gaze back towards Normal, who was arguing with someone who seemed to expect the afternoon off. "Yup, he's a demanding little cuss, isn't he?" 

"You can say that again." Alec shook his head. "I didn't quite catch your name?" He toned down the charm. There wasn't any point if she was Normal's woman. 

"It's Jondy." 

"Well, I guess I'll see you around then, Jondy. Nice meeting you." He began to walk away. 

"You too, 494. I'll be seeing you." Alec spun around at the mention of his designation. _What the hell . . ._ "I'll be sure to tell my sister you said you hoped she was feeling better." With that, she turned, reaching up to pull the hair away from her neck for just a moment. She heard Alec's chuckle as she walked away. 

"Well, I'll be damned." 

She headed back over to Normal's desk to say good-bye. He was frowning when she reached him. "What's wrong?" 

"I was just thinking. Every time you come to Seattle, something happens. The last time you were here you went on a run with Max and almost got killed when someone decided to shoot at you. The time before that, you almost got caught and taken back to 'you know where.'" He kept his voice low. Normal didn't like to mention Manticore by name. Jondy figured he was afraid that they were still looking for him. 

She smiled, genuinely at ease. "Oh, come on, Reggie. Manticore's gone, and so is Perez. What could possibly go wrong?"   
  
  


A little less than a mile away, the one-armed man stepped into the phone booth. White had had time to do his research. He would know that he was telling the truth, and now it was time for him to take the next step. 

"Yes, Mr. White. I trust that you have found my information to be reliable?" He chuckled lightly. "Good. Good. Now, what would you do for me if I told you where to find them . . . " 


	7. Nightmares

Chapter Seven:

Nightmares

The frozen ground crunched lightly beneath her feet as Katya fled from the destruction behind her. In the distance, the sounds of gunfire carried through the still night air. Up ahead she saw her siblings. Good, they were all out, and they all seemed to be okay. She was the group leader, and even at the tender age of eight, she knew that taking care of them was her responsibility. General had told her so.

Reaching a point where the ground sloped slightly, they plastered their small bodies to the frozen turf. Below freezing actually, and by a great deal. This was Siberia after all, and it was only March. More gunfire echoed in the distance as they peeked up over the rise just in time to see the gymnasium where they had trained the evening before vanish in one single earth-shattering explosion. Katya turned to her siblings.

__

Is everyone okay? she signed. Three affirmative answers. She sighed. What would they do now? The base was the only home they had ever known, but soon there would be nothing left of it. They had to run, that she knew, but to where?

The sound of a rapidly approaching helicopter came from the east. Within a few seconds, she could see its searchlight sweeping the ground_. They're looking for us_, she realized. One sharp hand signal sent her siblings diving into the dirt, their gray uniforms blending with the shadows. Katya curled into a ball and prayed, just like Doctor had taught her, that the helicopter's searchlight would miss them. It did, but only by inches.

Another explosion seemed to shake the ground. This time it was the barracks, where they'd been sleeping only moments before. Soldiers ran amuck around the grounds, some the enemy, some their own guards. Every now and then, one would fall, the victim of a well-placed bullet. It seemed as if every casualty was one of their own.

__

They're dying, Katya realized with horror as she watched another man fall. General's words came back to her_. To take a life is not the greatest power in the universe. Anyone can kill. The greatest power is to save a life, and that is why you were created, to save the lives of innocent people. _She gazed at the carnage before her, chewing her lower lip in trepidation. Doctor was still back there. They had to save him. Turning to her siblings, she made a few sharp hand signals. They stared at her in disbelief. _Go back?_

Doctor, she insisted_. We have to save him._

Fear shown in three sets of eyes. _But how?_ Tanya signed, her tiny hands cutting through the darkness. _There are only four of us. What can we possibly do?_ Seryozha and Misha turned back to gaze at the destruction from which they had just fled. Katya could see the light from the flames reflecting in their eyes. It illuminated the hopelessness that resided in their depths.

She knew they weren't afraid. Not of the soldiers, not of the fires. Their fears were of something more, something much bigger. Manticore.

For all of their young lives, they had been taught that Manticore was evil, that they had been born for the almost holy purpose of protecting the innocents of the world from that evil. Evil was weak, and they were strong, and some day, they would snuff that evil out of the world, but this was not the Manticore they had been told of. This Manticore was not weak. This was not the Manticore that crept in shadows like rats and nibbled away at the virtues of the world. This Manticore was strong and evil, and no matter how strong they were, they all knew that this was a battle they could not win.

Katya took a determined breath. They had to try. _We are strong_, she signed. _They are evil, and they are weak. _Used to having her orders obeyed, she turned and moved forward without looking back. Used to obeying orders, the others followed. 

Katya didn't exactly know what to do. She knew she had to try to help, but she didn't know how. Even their own strength and speed were no match for the masses of enemy soldiers swarming about the grounds like giant ants, but they had to save Doctor. They just had to. They sped through the darkness, rounding the base to make their approach from the opposite side. No one was looking as they climbed the perimeter fence and jumped down on the other side.

Three dark figures knelt in the shadows along the back wall of the schoolroom. _Explosives,_ Katya realized as she sniffed the air. She could smell their strange scent above the smoke and the blood and the gunpowder. Two of the men never knew what hit them. 

A lightening quick move from Sergei sent one flying against the wall, his body making a sickening thud and sliding motionlessly to the ground. The second felt nothing after his head was rammed against the brick wall with full force, but somehow, the third man knew. Spinning around, he drew a gun and faced the children before him. He knew what they were. They were just as strong, just as fast, and just as dangerous as the ones who had escaped from Manticore a few weeks earlier. He began to rise, his gun trained on the children before him.

"So, I see that I've fou-" The sound of his neck snapping was barely audible over the gunfire in the distance. His limp body fell forward, his gun landing in the dirt a few inches away from his lifeless hand. Katya looked up at her three siblings, and then down at the man she had just killed. _It is not wrong to destroy evil,_ General had said. _Killing an evil man is unlike killing an innocent one, and nothing of Manticore is innocent. _She knew that she had just taken a life, but she felt no remorse, only disgust, and then a twinge of pride. General would be pleased. She had destroyed something of Manticore.

They skirted the grounds, hiding in the shadows as they passed the bodies of the dead and dying. Every now and then Katya recognized the face or the scent of one of the guards or one of the lab techs who assisted Doctor. Halfway along the side of a fenced training area, Katya spotted Nikolai lying lifelessly on the ground. His white lab coat was covered in blood. To her young eyes it looked as if half of his body had been blown away, and she turned away in horror. _No, not Nikolai. Always so kind . . . he didn't deserve this. _She held back a tear and hurried forward with determination. Doctor's rooms were just ahead, and there was no telling what they might find.

The door to the small house was hanging open as they approached. Sniffing the doorway she could tell that someone had come, and then gone. She took a deep breath and entered, her siblings trailing behind.

The room was utter chaos. Files and papers lay strewn about the floor, furniture was overturned, and the cold night wind blew in through broken windows. They had already been here. Lifting her nose into the air she caught the scent easily and hurried into the back room.

She thought him to be dead at first. His ancient skin had a deathly pallor, and several bloodstains had merged into one across his shirtfront. She knelt before him, a tear sliding down her cheek. Behind of her, Seryozha and Misha wept silently, and a sob broke from Tanya's lips. 

"Doctor . . . no . . . " Her whisper was barely audible above the sounds of destruction around them. The old man's eyes fluttered open and he took a ragged breath.

"Yekaterina, is it you?" She took his hand between her own, just as he had done with her so many times. It was cold, so very cold.

"Yes, Doctor. It's me. We're all here." The rest of the children crowded around him. A peaceful smile crossed his face, and relief shown in his eyes. He smiled at each of them in turn. 

"Then you are all still alive." Doctor reached up and cupped Katya's face in one hand. "My children, all of you . . . you must . . . make them believe . . . that you are one of them."

"No. Never." Katya shook her head in horror. She understood what he meant. He wanted them to join Manticore.

"Yes, my little ones. It is the only way. Convince them, or they will kill you, all of you."

A shudder wracked his ancient body and he coughed up a speck of blood. Katya held back a sob. "Doctor . . . " Twin tears slid down her cheeks.

"No, Katya. Don't cry. You must be strong. You must take care of them." He lifted his hand from her face, touching each of their faces in turn. "Promise me that you'll fight when the time comes, but that . . . you'll stay alive until then. You must survive." Four heads nodded slightly. Another cough shook his weary frame, and he struggled to pull a breath into his tired lungs. "They will teach you . . . to kill. Do not listen. Death is wrong, every death. Do not take a life unless it cannot be . . . avoided, even if it is an evil life." He shuddered and took another ragged breath. "I love you, all of you, the . . . the . . . children I never had. Promise me . . . that you'll stay alive. Promise me."

The sound of humvees could be heard outside. "I promise." And with that, a weak smile of hope appeared on his ancient face, and Dr. Alexander Voinovich left his earthly life, surrounded by the only children he ever had.

When the squadron of soldiers entered the small house, they found four innocent looking children crying over the dead body of an old man. They posed no resistance when led outside. They put up no struggle when placed in a van and driven away, but their gazes drifted out the back glass of the van as it disappeared into the cold Siberian night. No one noticed the look of defiance in Katya's eyes as she watched the flames that marked the demise of her first home grow smaller and smaller in the distance. _I promise, Doctor. I promise._

The dream ended as it always did, with the sound of humvees ringing in her ears and the memory of the fires burning in her mind. Katya opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wishing all the memories away. She knew where she was, but sometimes it took a long time for her near-perfect memory to fade back into its proper place and leave the present to itself. 

Her heart still bled to think of it. She'd thought that night to be the very epitome of horror, but in the end it had only been the gateway to a more terrible life waiting for them in America. In a way, she was glad that Doctor had died. It would have killed him to see his children suffer so.

Rising, she wandered to the window, shaking her head to rid the memory of the humvees' engines from her ears, but they wouldn't leave. Propping her elbows on the windowsill, she stared out into the night. 

Several seconds later, the blood nearly froze in her veins.

She wasn't remembering the sound of the humvees.

They were really outside.

They'd found them.


	8. Waking Up

Chapter Eight:

  


Waking Up

  
  


Tanya awoke with a start. There was a hand clamped across her mouth. Someone was trying to stop her breathing. Clasping the wrist attached to the hand, she twisted until it released, then kicked the covers free and jumped into a fighting stance atop her mattress. She didn't take the time to try to identify the shadowy figure in her room. Acting purely on instinct and years of training, she lifted her leg and kicked at her attacker's face, but her blow was easily turned against her, and she felt her footing give way as her other leg was swept out from under her. Landing unceremoniously atop the mattress, she opened her eyes and gazed up through the darkness at the ceiling. She identified her attacker a fraction of a second before the familiar scent hit her nostrils. She stared up in confusion at the face leaning over hers. 

"Katya? What-" Her sister lay a finger across her lips to silence her. 

_Danger,_ she signaled. 

Tanya's eyes grew large. Katya was using the signs taught to them at Manticore, rather than the ones they had learned in Siberia, and her implication was clear. _Manticore._ Outside, she heard the sounds of engines getting closer as they bumped along the dirt road. Someone was coming for them. 

They were down the stairs in less than three seconds, bumping into Sergei and Mikhail on their way up. Within another ten seconds they were clear of the farmhouse and hiding in the woods to its rear. Sliding into the shelter of the underbrush, they watched as several humvees pulled up the drive and twenty armed men in camouflage poured out. A few seconds later, the sound of the front door being busted in reached their ears, followed by the echo of boots on the old hardwood floor. 

Katya sighed. Another home gone. Another time to run. Sometimes she just didn't feel as if she could keep going. _How did they find us this time?_ she wondered. They'd nearly been caught a few years earlier in Denver, and she'd hoped that the rural scene would be safer than the apartment in the crowded city, that with fewer people around to see them, they just might be able to go undetected. It was almost like someone was following them. She shook her head as she watched the lights flicker on in the upstairs hallway. 

Maybe it was time to head back to the city anyway, she decided as she watched the lights come on in her bedroom. With any luck, they could make it into Seattle and lose themselves in the crowds. They needed money. What little had been left from what she and Misha had made when they sold the diamonds they'd stolen from the jewelry store in Chicago was still in the house. The jeweler had deserved it anyway, she reflected. Most of the "diamonds" he'd sold had been fake. He'd been asking for the same treatment that he gave to his customers. 

"Sir, the house is empty. They aren't here." The voice of one of the men in the front yard drifted through the silence. Her sensitive hearing picked it up clearly. 

"They must have just left," answered another voice, "and they were in a hurry. They didn't take anything with them." The voice paused. "They found out we were coming somehow, so they're still somewhere around here, and we don't want to miss the chance of finding them." The voice grew more authoritative. "Kenney, take a group along the road to the east, and see if you run into them there. Eavers, comb these woods, they may be trying to hide out there. Matheson, take a group to the west. There's a ranch and a few houses down the road. Stop, search the houses, and ask questions. Even if they aren't hiding there, the owners may have seen something." 

_Down the road to the west. The ranch!_ If Matheson and his men came across the ranch, they may find more than they had bargained for. Katya glanced at the underbrush around her, a plan beginning to formulate in her mind. About a mile west of the old farmhouse, the road began to turn, eventually running a semi-circular course for several miles. The result was that the ranch itself was due south, and if they ran straight through the woods, they just might beat the soldiers there. 

Turning, she saw three sets of eyes glued on her, waiting for her to come to a decision. She pointed back through the woods towards the ranch and tapped the back of her neck. _Barcode._ Apparently Tanya had blabbed to Misha and Seryozha, because they nodded in understanding. Later Katya would wonder just how much Tanya had told them, but she was a bit preoccupied at the time. 

In the distance, they could hear soldiers beginning to search the woods, their heavy boots rustling the leaves and snapping twigs as they trudged through the underbrush, but they were too far away, and the 44's were much too fast, and by the time Eavers's group found the spot where they had been hiding, they were long gone.   
  
  


Life on a ranch begins early, and though Adam and the other ranch workers were already halfway through breakfast, the sun had not even begun to peak over the eastern horizon. Rosa, the teenaged girl who helped Mary in the kitchen, was scooping more scrambled eggs onto Adam's plate when a knock sounded at the kitchen door. Mary turned from the stove and set the bowl of biscuits in her hands down on the table in front of Jared. Glancing at the clock, she wiped her hands on her apron and frowned. "Who on earth could that be at this time-," but her question was answered as two strangers, a man and a woman, appeared in the doorway. 

The woman stood warily in the doorway and gave the occupants of the room a quick assessment. Her eyes came to rest on one man. "Adam, you've got to come with us. Now." She spoke with the authority of someone who was used to having her orders obeyed, but the kitchen was Mary's domain, and she didn't like it when someone interrupted her meals. 

"Now, look here, missy," she began, but Katya ignored the woman, pushing past her to stand beside the kitchen table. She paid no attention to the rest of the people seated around it. 

"Now. Please, Adam." She watched as he frowned at her, clearly confused by her unexpected appearance and her unusual request. 

"Why, Katya? What's wrong?" Seeing the frown appear on her face, he lay his fork down on his plate, suddenly overcome by the feeling that someone was keeping a secret from him, a very big secret. He raised an eyebrow in puzzlement and glanced down to the other end of the table at Buddy. Katya followed his gaze. 

"I'll go with you, cutie pie," suggested the man to Adam's right. 

"Shut up, or I'll kick your worthless ass," Katya responded, her eyes never leaving Buddy. 

"Oh, a feisty one," came another chuckling voice. 

"Go brush your tooth." The two men fell silent. She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Buddy, right?" The man nodded. "Tell him. He's got to come with us. We don't have time to sit around and hold a conference about it, either." She glanced back at Sergei, who stood in the doorway, his eyes riveted on the darkness outside. Matheson's group would be there any moment. 

"Look, young lady, I don't appreciate you barging into my home and interrupting my breakfast." Katya hurried across the room and leaned close to Buddy's ear. 

"You know what he is," she whispered, "so you should know that there are people after him. They're here, or at least they will be soon, but he doesn't know, and if he stays here, he doesn't stand a chance." 

"Ma'am, you don't know what he is," Buddy spoke quietly, his eyes fastened on his water glass. Buddy was no fool. He'd known that the day would arrive when Adam's past would come knocking. He'd just hoped it would be later, rather than sooner. 

"I know full well what he is," she muttered through clenched teeth. "Do you want him to die?" Buddy leaned forward slightly and rested his eyes on Adam. 

"They did things to him there, things it's best that he doesn't remember." He turned his head to look her full in the eye, and Katya had the unnerving feeling that something very terrible was about to happen. A dark haired woman appeared in the doorway. 

"Look," Katya began, "we don-" 

"Katya, they're coming down the road. They'll be here in a couple of seconds. We've got to get out of here, now!" Tanya motioned Sergei back out the door to where she and Mikhail were standing guard. Katya frowned and fixed her eyes on Buddy once more. 

"So what's it going to be? Does he live or does he die?" A dozen sets of eyes moved from Katya, then down the table to Adam, and then back up to Buddy. 

Buddy paused for a moment, then gazed back across the table at Adam. "Go. Now." 

Katya didn't need to be told twice. She zipped across the room, grabbing Adam's arm, and dragging him out of his chair and through the door. "We weren't here," she yelled back over her shoulder. "If you tell them we were, they'll kill you." And then the door slammed closed behind them, leaving the room in confused silence.   
  
  


The moment they appeared outside, Tanya, Mikhail, and Sergei took off running across the fields toward the cover of the woods. "What the hell is going on?" Adam stared out across the field at the three rapidly moving figures. _"Who's_ trying to kill me?" 

"Run," Katya ordered, grabbing him by this shirtfront and tugging him forward gently. 

"What the . . . you're kidding me. I can't run that fast!" 

"You can run a hell of a lot faster than you think! Now, unless you want to die, I strongly suggest that you move it before those nice men with guns pulling up the driveway decide to stop in for breakfast!" She started running, hoping that he would take the hint, but he didn't. Stopping, she turned to see Adam staring at her in confusion. 

"Lieutenant!" came a voice from up the drive, "there they are!" A shot rang out, and Adam heard a bullet fly past his ear. That was all the inspiration he needed, and he took off running towards her. Katya waited until he was even with her before she took off again. Glancing over at him, she saw that the expression on his face was not so much one of surprise as one of confusion. She wondered if some of the memories were coming back. 

For Adam, it all happened at once. He simply started running as fast as he could and found that he was faster than he thought. He remembered running this fast before, running through snow barefoot, only this time he remembered that he wasn't running from a burning building. He was running from someone, someone who was trying to kill him. Suddenly, it all began to come back. 

Another bullet whizzed past his head, and he found himself being shoved into the dirt. He hardly felt Katya pushing his head down; he was too lost in the past. He could see them now, men on snowmobiles, men with dogs, chasing him down like an animal in the hunt, tasers and the sounds of bullets flying past his ears. He knew they would kill him without a second thought. If they caught him, they would take him back. He could almost see the perimeter fence looming before him, and he knew that he had to get over it, but he'd given up his shot at freedom then, and gone back to save them. 

Flashing back into the present he saw several shadowy figures jump out of a vehicle and approach them through the darkness. He shouldn't be able to see in such little light, he knew, but he could make out their faces, and he knew it was because he'd been designed that way. Without a warning, Katya sprang from her hiding place and planted a firm punch in the midsection of the lead man. Knocking the gun from his grasp, she twisted his arm behind his back and pushed him forward into one of his comrades. There was the _thump_ of one skull hitting another, and they both went down in a motionless heap. It was like watching dominos fall as they collapsed into the dirt, taking two other soldiers with them. Katya spun again, a flying kick that sent the gun sailing from another soldier's grasp. Another kick left him unconscious on the ground. 

As he watched her fighting, something twisted in his memory. He'd fought like this before, he knew, but he hadn't been in a gang. That part had been a lie, and suddenly, without warning, he sprang from his hiding spot and into the middle of the action. Crouching down, he spun his leg around, knocking two soldiers off their feet. A well-placed elbow left another soldier unmoving on the ground. 

Katya knew what was happening, but she didn't have time to be surprised. The two soldiers she had knocked over with her first move had pulled themselves out from under the two unconscious men, and one lunged for his gun. Kicking it from his reach, she delivered a hard kick to his face that rolled his eyes back into his head and caused blood to squirt from his nose. He dropped like a fly, tripping the other man who fell face forward into the dirt with a muffled groan and stopped moving. Katya spun around in time to see her companion swing another soldier into a collision course with one of his comrades. With a final bone splitting kick she sent the last man to the ground clutching his broken calf in pain. 

Only then did she realize that they were the only two left standing. She jerked her head towards the empty humvee. "Let's go." 

As they picked up her siblings at the edge of the field and navigated the humvee back onto the road, the sun was just beginning peak out above the horizon. Sliding sideways on the seat, she let Mikhail take the wheel, and they all sat in silence as they left it all behind them, their course set for Seattle. 

Sitting in the silent humvee with Katya and her siblings, he found himself staring down at his hands. He couldn't decide whether his head was spinning while the earth stood still or vice versa. It was like waking from a long and confusing dream. Lifting his gaze, he turned to look at his companions for a moment before his eyes finally rested on Katya. "Who am I?" he finally asked, though somehow Zack realized that he already knew. 


	9. Caught Off Guard

Chapter Nine:

Caught Off Guard

Rays of early morning light filtered in through the blinds, breaking the darkness of the room within, but its efforts were little noted by either of the room's occupants. 

The young man stood cowering just outside the doorway. As he listened to the conversation within, he wondered once more why he'd taken this job. Maybe he should have just listened to his grandmother and become an accountant. He flinched as his boss's fist hit the wooden desktop with a shattering thud. He could have sworn that he heard the wood crack.

"What do you mean 'they got away?'" White roared at the man in front of him. "You should know what they're capable of." 

"Sir," the man stammered as he trembled within his camouflage uniform. "It was at night, sir, and we didn't realize that they heard us-"

"Well, of course they heard you coming!" White yelled. "Didn't I warn you about that?" He rubbed a hand across his eyes. There were times that he wished he could just fire some of the soldiers working under him and go after the transgenics on his own. He could do a better job himself, he was sure of it. Come to think of it, his new assistant could probably do a better job.

"Sir, we did pursue after we arrived on location. One group intercepted the subjects several miles away, but with the aid of a fifth subject, a male, they were able to overpower our soldiers and escape in a stolen vehicle." His voice was trembling.

"A fifth subject?" The soldier watched an expression of bewilderment cross White's face. "There were only four." White's brow knitted in confusion. "Are you sure he wasn't a civilian?"

"No sir, he couldn't have been. He appeared to be trained in the same hand-to-hand combat techniques used by the other Manticore transgenics we have encountered in the past, so all indications point to-"

"A regular X-series soldier," White finished for him. _But how?_ The Russian transgenics had been kept top secret, so it just didn't add up. Most of Manticore, including the regular X's, had never even known of their existence. 

Ignoring the beads of sweat breaking out on the soldier's forehead, he paused a moment to ponder this strange turn of events. "Dismissed," White finally said as he turned away and reached for the phone. He never once returned his gaze to the soldier as the man hurried out the door of his office.

"Ith dis ting done yet, Samb?"

Dr. Carr frowned at his patient and reached over to pull the thermometer from her mouth. Jondy leaned over to lay a reassuring hand on Max's shoulder. She wasn't too crazy about doctors herself, even if it was Dr. Carr. He certainly seemed nice enough, but the memories of broken bones and severed spinal cords were still too clear in her almost perfect memory. She watched one corner of his mouth tilt upward in a half-smile.

"Well, Max, your temperature is back down to normal, and your blood work looks very promising." 

Max took a deep breath and let it out. She'd been dealing with the virus for so long that she was a bit afraid to hope. "Meaning . . . "

"Meaning that your body's immune system seems to have finished the job, and the virus appears to be clean from your system." He offered a small smile. "But," he admonished, "I don't want any physical contact between you and Logan for several days. This virus was engineered to mutate rapidly, and I don't want you taking any chances until we're sure that it doesn't come back in another form." Max nodded. She wanted this over with. It'd been following her for far too long.

Dr. Carr reached for a manila folder and jotted down the results of her tests on the top sheet. "How long until we can be sure it's gone?" Jondy asked. Shuffling through the folder's contents, he scanned the words on a piece of crinkled notebook paper and glanced back up. 

"Two or three days, according to your contact in California, but he advises that we wait three just to be sure."

__

Three days. Seventy two hours. Four thousand three hundred twenty minutes, and she'd count every one. Max sighed. However you measured it, it felt like a small eternity, and there was always the chance that the virus would come back.

"If you'd stop by once a day so I can take a blood sample we could keep track of how things are going . . ." Seeing the uncertain expression on Max's face, he trailed off and sat the folder down on the counter. "Max," he said placing a hand on her shoulder, "you and Logan are going to beat this thing." He watched her nod in understanding, but there was a bit of worry in her eyes. She glanced downward for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Sam. It's just that we've been through all of this before." She shrugged, and Jondy reached over to take her hand.

"But this time," her sister said, "it's going to work. Even if the virus tries to come back, we've got an ex-Manticore lab tech ready to whip up another batch of whatever the hell that stuff was." She shrugged, giving Max's hand a gentle tug and pulling her sister down off the examination table. "In the meantime," she said with a smile, "let's go tell your boyfriend the good news."

"Jondy," Max tsked as she followed sister towards the door, a light smile beginning to appear on her lips, "he's not my boyfriend."

"Right," Jondy chuckled as she opened the door, "whatever you say, baby sister."

Zack sat on the ground with his back against a tree, his elbows resting across his bent knees as he stared down at his hands. Off in the distance, the sounds of children at play carried across the browned lawn, a light and cheerful sound that stood in sharp contrast to the gloom about him. Trashcans were upended all along the cracked walk which framed this edge of the park, and the light wind blew their contents about, leaving newspapers and empty cigarette packs scattered about the empty flower beds. He took only mild notice as a crinkled napkin skimmed across his shoe before traveling on westward with the breeze. His jumbled thoughts were elsewhere.

In the back of his mind, he could remember it, the feel of cold steel sliding across his skin, the warmth of the blood seeping from the wound. He shuddered and closed his eyes against the memory.

The memories were coming fast for Zack now that he remembered who he truly was, tiny bits and pieces from his childhood at Manticore. Every now and then the familiar face of one of his siblings would pop into mind, and sometimes it was flashbacks of the experiments or the torture that was part of their training. He shuddered at the rising memory of one experiment in which they'd severed an artery to see if he would bleed to death before his blood clotted.

Worst of all was that he had no solid clue what had happened between the moment he'd made his way through the ice and snow away from Manticore to freedom and the moment he'd awoken in a hospital bed several months ago.

Glancing up, he saw Katya making her way towards him. About fifty feet away, his traveling companions were studying a map of Seattle that they'd spread open across a rotting park bench. They'd ditched the humvee a few miles from the ranch and made their way into the city on a twisted course, alternately stealing and ditching cars in an attempt to make their escape route harder to trace. Hopefully it had worked.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she took a seat beside him on the grass. She suppressed an urge to sweep aside a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead and into his eyes, and then felt her stomach drop as he lifted his blue eyes to hers.

"Confused," he answered, surprising himself with his honesty. "It's all a blur. I remember the escape, and then nothing before waking up in the hospital with Buddy sitting across the room." He raked a hand through his hair in frustration.

"You don't even remember what happened to make you forget?"

He frowned. "Nothing. They told me there was an accident, that a tire had blown out while I was driving a truck into Seattle, but I'd remember it if it were true." He shook his head.

"Did anyone at the ranch ever say anything about-"

"Nothing. Zeke, Jared, Ike, they were all hired after I got there, even Rosa, the girl that helped Mary in the kitchen. She wasn't there until I'd been there for a few weeks." Again Katya pushed back the rising suspicion that there was some dark and ugly secret to his past. She watched as he wiped a hand over his eyes again and shuddered.

"What's wrong?" She lay a concerned hand on his shoulder, not noticing the slight tremor that went through Zack's body at the touch of her hand.

"Flashbacks, I guess you'd say. Manticore. The experiments . . . " He trailed off and leaned his head back against the tree trunk. 

Katya frowned. She remembered Manticore's experiments well enough. They'd started analyzing their new prizes as soon as they'd gotten them back to America. She remembered the night Misha had been returned to their bunks, both of his legs broken. Manticore had wanted to know how fast the bone and tissue damage would heal. He'd looked at her with those sad and helpless eyes, but he hadn't cried because in their short time at Manticore they'd already learned not to cry. Never. She'd felt helpless then, knowing that she should do something to protect her group, but knowing that it was hopeless. In the end, Manticore had been pleasantly surprised with the results, so pleasantly surprised that they'd broken all of their legs just to be sure their results were accurate. She frowned at the memory, trying to push it to the back of her mind. 

"Don't think about it," she said, slipping an arm around his shoulder and trying not to enjoy the way he leaned against her. "They did a lot of things that we shouldn't think about. It's over. Manticore's gone now. They're just trying to clean up the evidence."

__

Gone? Zack thought. _It's gone?_ Then suddenly he realized that he already knew that . . . only he wasn't quite sure how. He shook off the thought and frowned over at Katya. "You were at Manticore?" It was half question and half statement. He knew she had to be a transgenic. He'd seen her moves, and it was a perfect explanation for what had happened that afternoon in the barn, but he'd also seen the back of her neck, and there was nothing there.

"Yeah, for eight years, actually." She hugged her knees to her chest. "We, my siblings and I, were actually born in Siberia in '01. We were created from DNA that was smuggled out of Manticore and altered a little here and there." She raised the hair from the back of her neck and turned so he could see. "No barcodes, but we all have serial numbers on our backs, just between our shoulder blades. 44-01, that's me." She lowered her hair and turned back to face him. 

"X5-599," Zack said with distaste. He hated his designation. It reminded him of everything he had left behind. A moment later, he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "A Russian version of Manticore?"

"No. Not exactly. Project 44 wasn't really Russian. In fact, we don't know exactly what it was, but there were several governments in on it. Apparently some foreign leaders found out about Manticore, and we were created to . . . act as bodyguards against . . . possible assassination attempts by Manticore assassins. There were only the four of us." _Right, Katya,_ she chastised herself. _Face it, you were created to kick X5 ass. _She paused, expecting him to ask more, praying that he wouldn't, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "In March of '09, about a month after you guys made your break, Manticore swept in and destroyed the base. They killed everyone there, torched everything, loaded us up in a van, and took us back to Manticore. That's when the hell started." He remained silent for a moment, setting his own thoughts aside to ponder her situation.

"Makes you wonder how they knew," Zack thought aloud. "Somebody on the base trying to make a quick buck on the side, maybe?" Katya shrugged.

"I've wondered that myself, gone over it in my mind a million times." She sighed, gazing off into the distance towards the sounds of children's laughter. "There weren't many survivors to pin it on. There was a nurse, Danielle. I remember overhearing that she didn't come to the base that day because her son was sick. He was sick a lot, if I remember correctly. And General. We never really saw General that night, so I don't know what happened to him."

"General?" 

"He supervised our training. Military tactics, hand-to-hand fighting techniques, that sort of thing."

Zack's thoughts wandered to Colonel Lydecker. "Do you think he could have been the one?" He watched a sadness enter her eyes. She shook her head.

"Never. He believed too much in our mission, in our purpose."

"Sounds like Lydecker," Zack muttered beneath his breath. He wondered if she knew who he was talking about, but didn't seem surprised at her response.

"Lydecker? No way. General wasn't so . . . demented. They didn't torture us, and they didn't experiment on us that way. They still tried to brainwash us into believing everything they said, but the principle behind our existence was different. Besides, Doctor would never have let them do that to us."

"Doctor?" He watched a sad smile cross her face.

"Doctor Alexander Voinovich. Our creator."

"You took his last name."

She shrugged. "He was the closest thing we ever had to a father. He loved us like his own children. He told us that that night as we watched him die." Zack watched her eyes fill, but she held back her tears. "There wasn't anybody like that at Manticore. Just a few kind lab techs, but we were always experimental subjects there."

"Lab rats," Zack supplied.

"Yeah, but the principle was different from Manticore. We weren't 'lab rats.' We were more like . . . very special children." The sad smile crossed her face again, and some part deep within him ached to make it go away. "Doctor named us when we were born, and he and the nurses tucked us in sometimes at night." She looked down at her hands. "And then Nikolai, Doctor's assistant, he used to tell us stories at night. Stories about all of the places that we'd get to see when we were older and we went on missions, places he wanted to go someday. Nikolai was a dreamer. He said that when he was old, he was going to buy a farm and raise ducks and chickens and cows and horses . . . " she smiled weakly at the memory. "He was so gentle and so kind." The image of his mangled bloody body filled her mind again, and tears stung her eyes. "They killed him that night." A tear slid down her cheek. "Just like they killed Doctor."

That tear was Zack's undoing, and he reached up to brush it away with the pad of his thumb, but he couldn't pull his gaze away. The sadness in the green depths of her eyes pulled at him, making him wish that he could just wrap her in his arms and shield her from the pain. The feeling surprised him, caught him off guard. He wasn't expecting it, and suddenly, without fully realizing what he was doing, Zack found himself kissing her.


	10. Rule Number One

Chapter Ten:

Rule Number One

White threw the file down onto his desk and answered the phone with a muffled oath. He'd said "no interruptions," and he wasn't very happy to have his orders ignored. It had been happening much too frequently as of late.

"You lost them," came a familiar voice on the other end of the line. White's anger diminished instantly. 

"The taskforce we sent underestimated them." He leaned forward in his chair. "How did you know where they were?"

"That's not important," came the answer. "What is important is that I know where they are headed . . . "

Asha glanced down at her watch in annoyance. The lines at sector checkpoints seemed to be getting longer every day, and at this rate the files in her backpack would be disintegrated into dust by the time she made it into Sector Nine and got them to Logan. She shook her head in frustration and took two steps forward as the line moved up a bit.

"Hey, Asha, how's it going?" Asha sighed. She knew the voice all too well, and it wasn't that she didn't like its owner, she just didn't know if she had time to deal with him right now.

She adjusted the straps on her backpack. "Hey, Alec."

"So, where are you headed?" he asked, leaning forward on the handlebars of his bicycle and eyeing her with interest.

"Sector Nine." She frowned at the line of people ahead of her. There seemed to be some sort of a traffic jamb ahead, and from the looks of things they must be suspecting someone of trying to pass forged papers. Sector Nine was on the other side of Seattle, and if she made it through this checkpoint before dying of old age, she'd still have to make it through several others. "Eventually."

"Me too." He held up a package for her inspection. "JamPony delivery. You mind if I keep you company?" 

She shrugged. "No problem." 

"So," Alec began conversationally, "did you know Max's sister was in town?" He made a great pretense of inspecting the handwriting on the package he carried, and Asha raised an eyebrow. So that's what Alec wanted . . .

"Jondy drops in from time to time," she said with a shrug. "The last time I saw her in Seattle was a few months back." The line moved forward a few more feet.

"So, you know her?" Even if he hadn't glanced up from the package, she could have determined his interest from the tone of his voice.

"Yeah, actually." She paused. She didn't really know Jondy that well, but she knew her well enough to know that she liked her. "She reminds me a lot of Max, actually."

Alec seemed to contemplate this as they handed their ID's to the guard at the station, and, as she did every time she passed through one of these checkpoints, Asha tried to fight the urge to hold her breath as the guard glanced down at her forged papers. Thankfully he didn't seem to find anything amiss and handed their passes back and waived them on.

"So," Alec said as he pocketed his sector pass, "you wouldn't happen to know if she's seeing anyone would you?"

Asha turned to look at him, cocking her head to the side slightly and resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Alec was so predictable. "Actually, no. She's not."

"Really . . . " A gleam lit in his eye.

"But I wouldn't hold your breath, if I were you." She stuck her hands into her jacket pockets and began to walk away.

"Think she can resist my charms?" he asked, pedaling slowly beside her. 

Asha frowned for a moment, remembering what Logan had told her about Jondy's past. She shook her head. Jondy may not be one of her best friends, but she'd lived a tough life, and Asha respected her for coming through it all so well. "She's just not looking right now," she explained casually as she stepped around a yellowed newspaper that lay in the street in front of her.

Alec lowered his eyebrows, a thought coming to mind. "She's not um . . . playing for the other team, is she?" 

"Jondy?" Asha nearly laughed as she caught his meaning. "No. Nothing like that. She's just . . . the last few years have been rough, that's all." 

"Meaning . . . " Asha stopped to stare at him. It wasn't her place to tell him, and she honestly wasn't sure it was any of his business, but what could it hurt? Jondy had enough to deal with, and maybe if she explained it to him, he wouldn't bother her so much.

"It's a long story, but just over a year and a half ago, she watched the guy she was in love with gunned down in front of her." Alec seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"That sucks."

"Gets worse. She was pregnant at the time, but she got in the line of fire and lost the baby." She frowned. "She blamed herself for a while," she explained, glancing down at her feet as she made her way down the sidewalk. "She said that the guy that did it wouldn't have had the chance to if she hadn't made some of the decisions she'd made. She said she'd exposed him." She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets and narrowed her eyes in thought. "It must be awful, you know? To watch someone you love die and spend a couple of years blaming yourself, hating yourself, trying to work out in your mind just what you could have done to stop it? Only it doesn't matter because it's too late anyway."

For a brief moment, Asha could have sworn that Alec turned a light shade of green, but she decided that it must have been her imagination. Taking his silence for interest, she continued with the story.

"Last time she was here, she was having a rough time dealing with it, but Logan says that she seems to be getting better."

"Oh." Alec's response was little more than a whisper, and Asha raised an eyebrow in his direction. 

"What?" She watched him shake a strange expression off. It was as if a mask went down over his face. He cleared his throat. 

"So you don't think I have a chance, huh?"

"With Jondy? No. She's still dealing with losing Brian."

__

Brian . . . . Briefly he remembered what she'd said when he'd asked if anyone had ever told her how beautiful her eyes were. _Yeah_, she'd said, _he did._

"Well, I guess even I can't win 'em all," he said in the lightest tone he could muster. Then he pedaled slowly down the street beside Asha as they made their way towards the next sector checkpoint.

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he was doing.

Well, Zack knew what he was doing. He was kissing Katya. What he didn't know was why.

Oh sure, she'd looked pitiful and sad, and she'd been crying. Any guy would have gotten flustered by that, but he couldn't remember being quite so bothered by the sight of a woman in tears before. Well, not in what little of 'before' that he could remember, at least.

And if this was just some misguided attempt at comfort, why was there an entire flock of butterflies practicing aerial maneuvers in his stomach? He was stomping through uncharted territory, he realized, and it was territory where he had no business stomping. He pulled away with some reluctance.

Green eyes. They were staring up at him, and he was sure that if he were standing, the intensity there would have knocked him back onto his ass. He reached a hand up to tuck a strand of loose brown hair behind her ear, realizing hazily that his hand was shaking, trembling like a leaf in the breeze. His eyes skimmed over her face, taking in every line, every curve. There was something very big going on, he realized, something much bigger than the both of them. And it scared the hell out of him.

"So," Alec asked as he walked his bike along the sidewalk. "Doing the legwork for Logan while Max isn't feeling up to it?"

"Something like that . . ." She smiled lightly, turning her footsteps onto a different course. The sounds of childhood laughter carried out to them through the breeze. "Let's cut through the park, it'll save us a few blocks."

Alec shrugged. "Fine with me." He lowered one corner of his mouth in a frown. As parks went, this one wasn't all that impressive. The grass was dead, the flowerbeds were a mess, and there was garbage everywhere. Off in the distance, a group of kids was playing a game of baseball on a makeshift field. It made him think of his own childhood, or rather his lack of one.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Alec wasn't quite sure why he heard those words carry through the noisy park and across the field to him. His hearing was certainly sensitive enough, but it was something about the tone of the voice that uttered that phrase that caught his attention.

"We've been looking for you, Matthews," came another voice. "Didn't we make it clear to you that it was safer for you to not be found?" Alec stopped in his tracks. Asha knitted her eyebrows together in confusion at the expression on his face.

"What is it?" He held up a hand to silence her. Stepping around a bend in the path, he saw the source of the commotion. A group of eight rather tough looking men was circling a teenaged boy like a pack of hungry wolves, and from the looks of things, the boy seemed to be on the verge of getting the beating of his life . . . or maybe worse. He frowned as he watched the first punch being thrown.

"Hold on a sec, Asha, I'll be back as soon as-" He froze in midsentence as he realized that someone else was already taking the situation into their own hands.

__

Never think about the things you want that you just can't have. It was rule number one, and as Katya stared up into a set of incredible blue eyes, she couldn't help but break it. Sure, she could hold her breath under water for a good five or six minutes, but at the moment, she just couldn't seem to pull enough oxygen into her lungs. That was why her head was spinning. It had to be.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

The words broke through Katya's clouded mind, and she blinked several times, staring up at Zack in confusion

"We've been looking for you, Matthews," came another voice. Confused, they turned their heads towards the source of the sound. Several yards away a group of men were ganging up on their victim, a rather terrified looking teenager. "Didn't we make it clear to you that it was safer for you to not be found?" Dusting off the seat of her jeans, Katya rose with a sigh and headed towards them. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her siblings following suit, and behind of her, she could hear Zack's footsteps in the dry grass. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head from what had just happened to focus on the task at hand. It was harder than she'd hoped. 

"Didn't we warn you?" A bald man in a tattered leather jacket slammed his fist into the boy's gut, causing him to double over and gasp for breath as he tumbled to the ground. Behind the boy, the flash of steel glinted in the sunlight, and Katya was across the field and kicking the weapon from the man's hand before they even saw her coming.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with knives?" 

Recovering from the shock of her sudden appearance, the would-be attacker narrowed his eyes and growled at her. "What's it to you, bitch?" Katya raised an eyebrow.

"I see your mother didn't teach you any manners, either." She saw Tanya grab for another man's hand as he reached for his own weapon. Her sister's quick reflexes beat him to the draw.

"Here's a tip," Tanya supplied. "Never ever call someone who can kick your ass a bitch." The bald man grinned slightly, his eyes darting over Katya's left shoulder for just an instant. 

After sixteen years of training, Katya wasn't stupid, not that she ever would have been that stupid anyway, and when the man he'd signaled tried to jump her from behind, he found himself lying on the dirt on his back without being quite sure what had just happened. "Bitch," the man coughed up at her weakly, the oxygen knocked momentarily from his lungs.

"You guys are no fun, and you have such a limited vocabulary. Can you even read?"

Katya's comment was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, and as Matthews looked up from his spot in the dirt, he had to wonder if he'd hit his head. It all seemed to happen at once. 

As two men dove towards Tanya simultaneously, she stepped neatly out of the way, and there was a 'thud' as they crashed against each other. She clucked her tongue in disappointment. "Pitiful. Just pitiful." Another man pulled a knife and made a dive towards Sergei. Like his comrades, he found himself in the dirt. When a fourth assailant made a lunge towards Mikhail, his target merely sidestepped and grabbed the man by the collar, lifting him off the ground and leaving his feet dangling several inches above the brown grass. 

"Don't you know how to treat a lady?" he asked the terrified man before shoving him back against the man who'd first attacked his older sister and was now trying to rise once more.

As the bald man made a lunge for Katya he found that her small fist did indeed pack a great deal of power. One punch to the face and he was out like a light. Zack's flying kick left another man motionless on the ground, and as another tried to grab Katya from behind, he found himself lying on his back gazing up at her in confusion. 

Sergei walked forward and offered Matthews a hand up, which he accepted nervously. Glancing about her, Katya leaned forward to the man she'd just flipped over her shoulders. His eyes were large, and he was still trying to catch his breath. "Now," Katya said, leaning over to place her face only inches above his, their noses nearly touching. "When your buddies wake up, let them know not to mess with our friend here." She jerked her thumb back towards the young man, who was still staring at them all in astonishment. "If you get any ideas, we'll be watching." Turning, she patted the teenager on the back. "You'd better get home, okay, kid?" He didn't waste time arguing and took off across the field towards home.

"It's not fair," Sergei muttered as they walked away. "There weren't enough of them to go around . . ."

Alec's jaw nearly hit the ground as he watched the action before him. He knew those moves, and he'd seen that sort of speed before. The eight men hadn't even been a challenge for the five people who'd come to the young man's defense, and to be honest, two or three of them could have dispatched them just as easily. Squinting his eyes, he tried to get a good look at their faces, but they were walking in the other direction, so he focused on the backs of their necks, hoping to see a familiar barcode, but there was nothing there, absolutely nothing. And then he got a glimpse of something familiar.

"Shit."

"What? What is it?"

"Zack. That's Max's brother." 

"Huh?" 

He shoved the bicycle in Asha's direction, ignoring the bewilderment that showed on her face. "Take this and get over to Logan's, _now_. Just tell them that Zack's in Seattle. I'm going to follow them. I'll catch up with you later."


	11. Conspiracy Theories

Chapter Eleven:

Conspiracy Theories

Logan stared uncomprehendingly at the words on the screen in front of him. Sebastian had sent him these files three hours ago, and it had taken him the entire time to get through all four pages. It wasn't that Project 44 wasn't interesting, quite the opposite, in fact, but all Logan could think about was the fact that Max had an appointment with Dr. Carr scheduled at two o'clock this afternoon, and although three thirty had already come and gone, he still hadn't heard a word. Shaking his head, he looked down and frowned at his only companion.

"Life must be easy for you," he muttered to Milly, who was napping beside his desk. She opened one eye slowly, as if the movement required far too much effort, and stared up at him. "No worries, nothing to complain about. You don't have to worry about genetically engineered viruses or secret government agencies trying to kill the woman you love." He leaned over to scratch her head, and though she didn't move, he was rewarded by a loud, rumbling purr. "Well, I take that last part back. I can't imagine you're all that happy about the fact that those same people are after Jondy."

Sighing, he set his glasses aside and rubbed his tired eyes. Glancing down at his notepad, he scanned the notes he'd managed to put together. Towards the bottom of the page, he'd finally given up and started writing in pen. He'd gotten tired of sharpening the pencil after every other word because his nervous fingers had applied too much pressure and broken the lead. Frowning, he gave the last paragraph on the computer screen another reading, just to be sure that he hadn't missed out on any important details.

"Hey." The sound of the word broke the silence of the apartment. He hadn't heard the door open, but then again, he rarely did. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face its owner. He began to rise from his desk chair, but stopped halfway up as his gaze met her eyes.

He hadn't seen Max in a week, and as he glanced across the room, he decided that no one had ever looked so beautiful to him as she did at that moment, but as he took a closer look, he had to admit that she looked like hell. As the afternoon sunlight shone through the window onto her face, it seemed to accent the tired lines that resided there and the bags beneath her weary eyes. Leaning against the doorjamb, she looked almost as if she needed the wall to hold her up. She looked so terribly pale, and even on her slight frame he could tell that she'd lost weight. He frowned. "Are you okay?" He watched as the trace of a smile took root on her lips and blossomed there. A sparkle came into her eyes.

"Never better." He smiled back.

"So the virus . . . "

" . . . is pretty much gone," she finished with a shrug. She glanced down at the floor for a moment, the smile sliding away. "My system is clean, but Sam wants to wait a few days, just to be on the safe side . . . in case it mutates and comes back."

As her brown eyes focused on his face again, he found it hard to fight the urge to rush across the room to her side. She looked so tired and weak that the need to take care of her was overwhelming. _Don't fool yourself, Cale, she could still kick your ass._ "How long?" he asked after a moment.

"Three days." He pondered this for a few seconds, another thought on the tip of his tongue, a thought that he was afraid to voice.

"What if . . . " He couldn't quite get the words out.

"If it's not back in three days, then we'll know that it's gone. And if . . . something . . . should happen, Jondy says that the lab tech is willing to work with it until we win." She glanced down toward the floor for a moment and swallowed before meeting his eyes again. "Logan?"

"Yeah?" He watched her expression for an agonizing moment, pleased as the hint of another smile slowly touched her lips.

"We're gonna beat this bitch." He smiled back, and for the first time in a long time, the world seemed to be a little more hopeful.

"Yeah."

The sounds of footsteps came down the hallway, interrupting the moment. They both looked away as Jondy appeared from around the corner and shoved a sandwich into Max's hands. "Here, eat this. You've been sick for days, you look like hell, and you need food." She pushed Max down into the closest chair, and glanced over at Logan, who seemed to be studying a ballpoint pen in his hand. Max was showing an unusually strong interest in the sandwich. "I know, I know," Jondy muttered, "I just interrupted you two making eyes at each other . . . again." She rolled her eyes. _These two are so predictable._ She glanced towards her cat.

"Sheesh. Come on Milly, let's leave these two lovebirds to themselves." Milly merely opened an eyelid to glance at Jondy. Then she lowered it again. "Hey, mouse-breath, tuna." That earned more of a reaction. Milly rose leisurely and padded delicately across the floor, as if trying to remind her owner that patience was a feline virtue. Jondy chuckled to herself, knowing full well that patience was not one of Milly's best qualities. She waited until the cat was in the kitchen and out of sight. "You know what?" she muttered to Max. "That cat's gonna hate me when she finds out it's just a can of catfood."

Chuckling, Max took a bite of the sandwich, relieved to notice that her appetite seemed to be coming back. As an X5, she had spent very few days of her life sick, and she had to admit that she had no liking for it. _You threw up for the man,_ Jondy had joked on their way out of Dr. Carr's office, _now _that's _love._ She glanced up at Logan's computer screen. "So, did you find out anything about that special project Manticore had going? Jondy was telling me about it this morning." Logan frowned and spun his desk chair around to retrieve his notes. In truth, he'd forgotten all about Project 44 the moment Max had walked into the room.

"Well, Sebastian turned up a little bit, but even he couldn't find much."

"Nobody could keep a secret like Manticore," Jondy supplied from the doorway. Max turned her head to glance at her. 

"I thought you went to the kitchen to leave us alone, baby sister," she teased. Jondy held up her hands in defense, her open palms faced outward.

"Hey, I wasn't listening in on you. I just have sensitive hearing . . . that's all." She smiled mischeveously. "So, what did you dig up?" she asked Logan. He turned to face the computer screen and tapped a few keys.

"Well, according to Sebastian's source, Project 44 had nothing to do with Manticore, at least not in the beginning. In fact, it wasn't even American." Jondy knit her eyebrows together in confusion.

"Wasn't American? So what was it?"

"That's the big question, actually. There are speculations involving the UK and France, maybe even Germany and Canada. The facility itself was located in Siberia, but there's no solid evidence to link the project to Russia, either."

Max swallowed another bite of her sandwich. "Sounds like every conspiracy theorists dream," she commented in between bites.

"Sounds like Manticore," Jondy added. 

"Close," Logan said as a new page filled the screen. "From all appearances, the purpose wasn't that different. Genetic engineering. Subjects designed to be superior to other humans."

"How original," Max commented dryly. "So, how many of these guys are there running around in the world?"

"Four," Logan answered simply.

"Four?" Jondy raised an eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding me. All that trouble for _four_ people?" Logan tapped on his keyboard again.

"Two males and two females, all born back in '01, apparently just weeks apart." Max shook her head.

"Four? What kind of damage did they think they could do? They couldn't exactly take over the world with four."

"Well, that wasn't really their goal. Manticore wanted to create armies of transgenics, but four must have served their purpose." Turning, he looked back at Max and Jondy.

"Okay," Jondy said after a moment, "I'll bite. What was this 'purpose?'" Logan shrugged.

"Nobody knows, but Sebastian has a theory. Ever hear of something called 'the Coalition?'" Max frowned at him, clearly at a loss.

"Sure," Jondy supplied after a moment, "Jolene's a big conspiracy buff. She was always feeding Brian some story or another. Supposedly there's a group of old guys sitting around somewhere, influential members of foreign governments that are friendly with but don't entirely trust the US." She shrugged. "Somebody dreamed it up after the Pulse, or so I heard."

"Actually, the theory was around long before then, but after the Pulse, people were eager to blame anything or anybody, so the idea gained popularity."

Jondy leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed her arms in front of her. "So you think this 'Coalition' is responsible?"

"That's what Sebastian thinks. I tend to agree that it might be possible. Think about it. If they found out about Manticore in the late 90's, what would their greatest fear be?"

Jondy shrugged. "What? Did they think we were going to invade them with armies of transgenics or something?"

"Not likely. Their countries weren't hostile towards the US, and the US never showed any hostility towards them. Invasion was highly unlikely." Jondy shook her head.

"If they weren't afraid of invasion, then what threat would transgenics . . . " she trailed off mid-thought as memories of her childhood training flitted through her mind. They'd been taught to kill, that was certain, but not just moving, fighting targets. They'd been trained to kill innocents as well, people who had no clue that their lives were in danger. "Assassinations."

"That's what I was thinking myself. Maybe Project 44 wasn't intended to create soldiers. Maybe it was intended to create bodyguards who would have a chance of fighting off an X5."

"It wasn't about countries," Max said as she swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. "They just wanted to save their own asses." She paused a moment in thought. "So where are they now?"

"Nobody really knows what happened to them. The rumors start to disagree a few months before the Pulse. Some claim that they were eventually killed, others say they were sold to a foreign government. Sebastian even found some guy who's convinced they were carried off in a UFO."

"Something tells me you've got a new theory," Max said. Turning, Logan tapped a few keys on his keyboard, and the picture of an old man with white hair and a kindly face filled the screen.

"Doctor Alexander Voinovich," he supplied. "One of the most brilliant geneticists the world has ever seen."

"Didn't he win a Nobel or something?" Logan nodded.

"Among other things. He did a lot of work towards curing genetic diseases. The man was a genius. I'd be willing to bet that there wasn't a lab tech at Manticore that wouldn't have killed to be him. He also vanished in March of '09. Rumor has it that he was working to 'perfect humanity' at the time."

"Sounds like something a scientist would say," Jondy said.

"What happened?" Max asked as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "They off him to keep his mouth shut or something?"

"Not exactly." Logan tapped the keyboard again, and a new image filled the screen. It appeared to be what remained of a group of burned out buildings. A rusty and broken-down fence surrounded its perimeter. "This is what is left of a military base located in Siberia, or so the government says. It was supposedly burned to the ground in March of '09, when an underground fuel tank exploded."

"Looks pretty small to be a military base. Something tells me you aren't buying it."

"Nope. There's a village a few miles away. The residents didn't even know the place existed until it was burned out, but they claim that the area was under heavy attack the night of the fire. Explosions, strange helicopters, the works."

"So what do they think happened?" Max asked, though somehow, she thought she had a pretty good idea.

"They don't have a clue," Logan supplied, "but I'd bet money that Manticore was involved. Sebastian has a source who thinks the 44's may have been created from altered DNA that had been smuggled out of Manticore."

"Guess they wanted it back," Jondy muttered. "Really bad."

"Not to mention the fact that they would have loved to get their hands on Voinovich's research," Logan added. "Once they got possession of your Russian cousins, they probably brainwashed them, added them to the ranks."

"And used them as lab rats," Jondy added with a shudder. "White and his contact said something about an escape in '17."

"Sebastian asked around, but nobody else seems to have theories connecting Manticore to their disappearance, so the only information we have on that is from what you overheard." Frowning, he spun his deskchair to face them.

"So you think they made an escape of their own in '17?" Jondy asked.

"It sounds that way. When you guys broke out in '09, they kept that a big enough secret, but I doubt many people outside the most influential circles at Manticore knew about the 44's."

"So if they broke out, nobody would have made much of an effort to hunt them down. They couldn't have without letting a whole lot of people in on the secret." Jondy frowned. "But how'd they get out? It was hard enough for us. I'm sure they turned the place into a lockbox once we broke out. It's not like they let them walk out the front door or anything." Her frown deepened, cutting lines of thought in her forehead. _They didn't just let them walk out . . . did they?_

"Do you think they might have-" but Jondy's thought was cut off by the slamming of a door in the distance and the sound of footsteps hurrying down the hall. A breathless Asha appeared in the doorway.

"Asha?" Logan asked, clearly confused as to what was going on. "What's wrong?"

"Alec sent me over," she managed between breaths. "He wanted me to warn you."

"Alec? Warn somebody?" Max muttered. "How surprisingly caring of him. What's the warning? He piss somebody off and now they're after him?"

Asha shook her head, pulling another lung full of air in as she struggled to catch her breath. "I don't know. We saw some transgenics in a park over in Sector Seven. He wanted me to come over and tell you-" she paused for another breath "-that your brother Zack is back in Seattle."


	12. Green Eyes

Chapter Twelve:

Green Eyes

Logan frowned down at Max's sleeping form. "Are you sure she's okay?" he asked Jondy for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Yeah, she's okay, just tired, that's all." She reached down to push a strand of hair from her sister's face, and Logan experienced an unexpected stab of jealousy. He'd been watching Max sleep, and he wished he could have done that himself. Jondy looked up at him from her place on the sofa. "I know what you're thinking. 'What a time to fall asleep,' huh?" He frowned.

"To be honest, I'm just worried about her." Ten minutes earlier, Max had lay down on the sofa, saying that she was feeling a bit tired. Thirty seconds later she's been out like a light.

"Don't worry. She'll be all right. Look at her. The color's already starting to come back into her cheeks." Glancing down, Logan had to admit that it was true. Max did look a little better. He looked up as a door opened and closed in the distance and Alec entered the room.

"You don't knock either, I see," Jondy observed, glancing over at their newest visitor. "So, what did you come up with?" She watched as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Well, I followed them around Sector Seven for a while." He paused, as if trying to avoid the subject. "Hey, how's Max?"

"She's fine. Where'd they go?"

"Oh, they wandered around, down a few alleys, cut across a few vacant lots, through a few empty buildings . . . "

"And . . ." Jondy prompted.

"And I sort of . . . lost them . . . near the cutoff by Sector Eleven . . . "

Jondy rolled her eyes. "You lost them? Great." She sighed, glancing over at Logan and then down towards Max again. 

"Well, if it's any comfort, I don't think he remembers anything. I overheard him saying that he recognized some things and that he must have been in Seattle before, only he couldn't remember."

Jondy frowned. "I wonder if that'll buy us enough time before he remembers, and what do we do? Get him out of Seattle? Find him and explain? It's all going to come back, no matter what we do, especially now that he's back in town."

"Did you find anything out about the transgenics he was with?" Logan asked.

"Not really. It was weird. They were fast enough and strong enough to be X-series, but I couldn't see any barcodes. They must have had them removed." Jondy's eyes jerked upwards to meet Logan's.

"Asha said there were four others, two men and two women," Jondy thought aloud. _Could it be . . ._ "Do you remember anything about them at all? What did they look like? Were there any details that struck you? Like their clothes? Or their speech? Anything?"

"Well, I didn't get a good look at the one girl, but the other one was cute." He grinned. Jondy rolled her eyes.

"What about the guys?"

"Why would I look at the guys?" he asked. Jondy decided that Max was right. He was the most annoying person on the face of the earth. She glared at him. "Alright, alright. Nothing really struck me as odd, but I did catch one of their names. The girl I couldn't see called one of the men 'Seryozha' . . . or something like that." Jondy glanced over at Logan.

"That's Russian, isn't it? Ever read _Anna Karenina_? Her son's name is Sergei, but she calls him Seryozha." She took a deep breath as the full implication of what she'd just said kicked in. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" But the expression on Logan's face showed that he was already thinking it.

"They also called Zack by his name."

"Which means that he knows who he is, or at least remembers some things. Do you think they know who he is?" she asked Logan.

"Hold on, hold on, mind filling me in on who 'they' are?" Alec asked, surprised to realize that he was actually keeping his voice down on account of Max, who was still sound asleep. The sound of a toilet flushing in Logan's bathroom reached his ears, but he paid it no mind. Asha must still be around.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Jondy said as her eyes caught Milly making her way from the bathroom. Alec caught sight of the cat too, as well as the direction from which she had come.

"Did that cat just . . . " Jondy couldn't help but laugh as Milly padded across the room to sniff at Alec's shoe.

"She's toilet-trained, don't worry." She chuckled to herself as Milly began to butt her head against Alec's leg. He took a step back, put off guard by the cat's unexpected affection, but Milly merely followed him and began to lavish similar attentions upon his other leg.

"What the hell is its problem?" He looked at the cat as if she were the plague. Jondy couldn't help but burst out laughing at the sight, though she quickly quieted herself for fear of waking Max.

"You're male. Milly loves anything male." She chuckled again as Milly sat back to gaze up at Alec with longing eyes. "From the looks of it, I think she's quite taken with you. You may be the one and only love of her life," she joked. Alec seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"She's not going to try to hump my leg or anything, is she?"

"No, nothing like that. Just pet her, humor her. She'll be fine." Jondy sobered. "But back to the issue at hand. Have you ever heard mention of something called 'Project 44?'"

Outside the penthouse window, thirty stories above the street below, a shadow fell across the windowpane before moving away. No one within the apartment was aware of its existence, but the shadow listened to the conversation within, eavesdropping in secret as Logan retold the story of her own life.

Sighing, Katya looked over the sleeping forms around her. It was Misha's turn to keep watch, but she'd told him to rest. She couldn't sleep anyway, so there was no sense in them both being awake. Glancing down to her left she watched Zack sleep. He looked so peaceful, so innocent. She reached a hand down to brush his cheek, but stopped herself at the last minute. She didn't want to risk waking him.

When she had returned an hour earlier, she'd discovered that her brothers had given Zack a brief explanation of their identities, probably with the hopes of jogging his own memories, but it didn't seem to have helped, and now she knew that she faced a decision. Out there in a penthouse in Sector Nine was part of Zack's group, part of his family, and from what little of the conversation she'd heard, they were looking for him.

So why didn't she want to give him up?

She'd caught a glimpse of 210's barcode. _No_, she corrected herself,_ Jondy._ There had been another X5 in the room, one who hadn't been part of the original escape, so he must have made it out when Manticore had been destroyed a few months earlier. He was the one who had tried to follow them, but he had ended up being followed himself. And there had been a third, one on the sofa that she couldn't see, but she could smell her easily. X5-452. Max. She hadn't needed to see her to know immediately who she was.

Reaching down to Zack's face, she gave in to the urge to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. There it was again, that feeling that she got every time she looked at him, the feeling that her insides were being turned inside out, the feeling that she could fly. She wasn't so naïve that she didn't recognize it, but it was a dangerous thing to feel. _How long have you known him?_ she chastised herself, _you can't be in love with him, you little fool._ But somehow she knew that she was already three-fourths of the way there, and that's why she was afraid. Here, in their own little world, she could keep him by her side and never fear giving him up, but she was afraid of the day that he would remember, because that would be the day she would lose him.

Sighing she looked back towards Sergei and Mikhail, then over toward Tanya. They were his family, just as this was hers, and they loved him. If it were Misha or Seryozha who was missing she would want to know that they had been found, that they were okay, and so there was only one thing to do. Leaning over, she woke Misha, signing quietly to him so as not to wake the others, then, pulling the hood of her jacket up over her head, she disappeared into the night.

It was long past midnight, but Logan couldn't sleep. He didn't know if his life was in danger, and even the fact that he had three transgenic bodyguards hanging around his penthouse didn't ease the worry. 

Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his weary face and glanced up at his computer screen. An hour ago he had finally heard from Buddy, who'd been afraid to contact him because there had still been soldiers combing the ranch for every last detail. Now he had the official word. According to Buddy, Zack, who'd still thought of himself as Adam at the time, had left the ranch with two women and two men. At least one of the women had seemed to know who he really was. What's more, Buddy had watched them fight off a group of soldiers with his own eyes, and now it seemed that Zack was in Seattle, and he just didn't know how best to handle the situation. 

He could hear Alec and Jondy talking in the next room, and Max was still asleep on the sofa. _Is there some way to bring back Zack's memory without the memories of what they did to him at Manticore?_ he wondered. _Can we make him realize that he was brainwashed and convince him that killing Eyes Only isn't what he really wants to do?_ For the life of him, Logan didn't have a clue, and it wasn't exactly his decision. As soon as Max woke up, he'd be sure to ask her and her sister what was best. He was their brother, after all.

It was at that very moment that he heard it, the sound that he noticed only because he'd become so accustomed to listening for it. Max's soft footsteps tread the floor behind him, and he turned to look at her, glad to know that she was up and about and feeling better, but something wasn't quite right.

Several things ran through Logan's mind as his eyes fell on the woman before him. He knew the outline of her face by heart, but Max hadn't been wearing black when she'd come to his apartment this evening, and her hair hadn't been concealed beneath the hood of a jacket. But the thing that struck him most was the fact that the eyes that stared out at him from Max's face were green. 


	13. Deja Vu

Chapter Thirteen:

  


Déjà Vu

  
  


_Green eyes,_ Logan thought to himself as he watched his visitor pull back the hood of her jacket to release a mass of light brown curls, curls eerily similar to the dark ones Max had had when he had first met her. It felt frighteningly like that night nearly two years ago when he had first seen her face, when she had broken into his apartment to steal that stupid statue. And now, for the second time in his life, he was seeing her face for the first time. 

"Who are you?" he heard himself ask, though as he heard the voices in the next room quiet, he immediately regretted it. He hadn't intended to bring his temporary bodyguards to the alert, especially since he wasn't sure that the woman who stood in the doorway with her hands in her pockets posed any immediate threat. _How did she sneak past two X5's anyway . . ._

It happened all at once, and much too quickly for Logan to call out a warning. Suddenly Alec was making a dive in the woman's direction, and at that instant Logan saw something that he never thought he would see. He saw someone move faster than an X5. 

Before his eyes could register quite what was happening, the woman merely stepped to the side and used one leg to sweep Alec's feet out from under him. He landed face-first on the floor with the woman he had intended to attack standing over him. She still had both of her hands in her pockets. Jondy stood in the doorway in a fighting stance, not ready to attack until she was certain she had reason to. 

"You okay, 494?" Jondy heard the woman ask as she leaned over to offer a hand to Alec. As she moved forward, her hair fell to the side and her face became visible in the light of Logan's desk lamp. Jondy felt her breath catch in her throat. 

"Who the hell are you?" but it was Max's voice, and not Jondy's that said the words. Four sets of eyes turned toward the doorway where Max stood, and three sets of eyes moved back and forth between Max and the intruder. 

"Shit," Alec said from his place on the floor. He watched as the woman leaning over him straightened and took a few tentative steps across the room to where Max stood. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. 

"So it's true," the woman finally said. "452, right? You're Max." 

"What's true, and who the hell are you?" Max watched with narrowed eyes as the woman lifted one corner of her mouth in a lopsided smile. 

"It's true, what I overheard at Manticore years ago, that I must have been created from the same base DNA as X5-452, you, and I am Yekaterina Voinovich, though 44-01 may mean a little more to you."   
  
  


Images flashed through his mind, and wedged between the world of reality and the world of his dreams, Zack was powerless to stop them. Deep in his subconscious, visions of Tinga being led away by Manticore soldiers assaulted him. Over and over again, he left Brin on a park bench to be picked up by Lydecker, a choice she had made for herself. 

_I'll never tell you anything._

He awoke with a start, sitting upright on the mattress and gazing about him in confusion for a moment before remembering where he was. _It's coming back,_ he realized, _it's all starting to come back._ Glancing down at his trembling hands he allowed himself a moment of fear with the realization that maybe he didn't _want_ to remember any more of it. What he'd just remembered was horrible enough, but there were things that he hadn't remembered yet that he knew would be ugly, entire blotches of his existence that he knew he'd rather forget again once he remembered them. 

Rising, he made his way to the window of the warehouse and gazed out at the water. Something was missing. 

"Hey, you okay?" he heard Mikhail whisper. 

"Yeah," he answered after a moment. "I'm just remembering stuff." Then he realized what was missing. "Where's Katya?" He couldn't miss the momentary grin that lit his companion's face. 

"She went out to get some fresh air, told me to keep an eye on you in case you had any flashbacks in your sleep." He frowned again. "You sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah." Turning, he lay back down and tried to get back to sleep, but all he kept thinking was that he missed Katya, and as much as it frightened him to admit it, he had a pretty good idea why.   
  
  


"From what I understand, they just smuggled DNA out of Manticore and made the necessary alterations and upgrades, so to speak. They altered our physical appearances slightly, probably so we wouldn't be so easily recognizable if we ran into someone from Manticore." Katya paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. Across the room, her audience sat in silence, listening to her fill in the gaps in the story Logan had told them earlier that evening. "Basically, I'm just a souped up X5," she finished simply as she glanced around the room. 

Looking Max in the face was still a little strange, but she was getting used to it, and though she'd never admit it, she was starting to like these people. Somehow she trusted Jondy and Max a little more, possibly because they had escaped from Manticore as well, and on some deep psychological level, she could identify with them personally. It was hard to equate them with Manticore when they had had the guts to admit that they didn't want to be there in the first place and rebelled against the system. 

She wasn't quite sure how she felt about Alec, but he'd made his dislike of Manticore evident over the past hour, so she certainly couldn't hold anything against him. As for Logan, well, she was just amused by the looks that had been passed between him and Max since she had arrived. It was actually kind of cute. 

"It was different in Siberia," Katya continued after a moment. "We were brainwashed, of course, but not . . . violently. We were just raised to believe that Manticore and everything that had anything to do with it was the epitome of evil. It was our job to protect the 'innocents of the world' from it." She took another sip from the glass of water in her hand. "There weren't any experiments. Doctor would never have let them do that to us." 

"Doctor Voinovich?" Logan questioned from his place beside Jondy on the sofa. Katya nodded. 

"He was just a kind old man. Manticore probably tried to get him on staff when they started up, but he would never have stood for any of his 'children' to be test subjects. Oh sure, if we fell and broke our arm or something, he'd keep a close eye on it and study the way it healed, but they never inflicted those sorts of wounds on us intentionally. They did a lot of blood tests, but we didn't mind the needles, so it wasn't so bad." She shrugged. "I figure the only way they got him to work on us was by lying to him in the beginning. We overheard him sometimes, telling Nikolai how he hated what they were trying to make us into, but he never left. He was trying to look out for us, I guess." She glanced down at the floor sadly. 

"Sounds better than Manticore," Jondy muttered. 

"It was, in ways. I can remember some of the nurses singing us lullabies in their various languages when we were babies, and sometimes Doctor or Nikolai would come and tuck us in." She smiled lightly at the memory. "The best nights were the ones when Nikolai would tell us stories about all the places we would get to see some day. He was a dreamer, and he made us believe." Sighing, she closed her eyes against the memory. "Of course all he got for his dreams was blown away." She paused for a moment before continuing. 

"As soon as they got us to Manticore, the experiments started." She glanced up to make eye contact with the three X5's in the room. "But I guess I don't need to give the details on that." She shook her head. "Once they figured out that Voinovich had created something better than they had, they were ecstatic. They sifted through our DNA like gold miners going through the mud at the bottom of a stream." She took another sip of the water. "I know they used some of our DNA sequences in the last few X7's. We got there too late for them to use it in them all, and I'm pretty sure that they used some of our genetic code in the X8's and X9's, since Doctor corrected the genes that caused the seizures you guys had." 

"So," Alec chimed in from his place on the arm of Logan's sofa, "what you're saying is that if we were to fight, you could kick my ass without breaking a sweat." 

"Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly, but yes, we were designed to be able to take out an X5 assassin." She watched a grin slide across his face. "I knocked you on your ass without taking my hands out of my pockets didn't I?" She watched the smile slide off his face. _Poor shattered male ego . . ._ But she smiled and chuckled to herself. Alec was a lady-killer, just like Seryozha. 

"So," she continued after a moment, "they stuck tattoos on the backs of our necks and put us into training with the others. Apparently no one noticed anything suspicious." 

"Or if they did they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut," Jondy added. 

"True enough. They switched us between different facilities a lot, each time telling the director at the new facility that we were from somewhere else. Probably only a handful of people at the top ever knew what we were." 

"So you just played along?" Max asked from her chair, knowing that it wasn't that simple, trying to block the memories of Manticore's attempts to break her own spirit months before. 

"Sort of. Before Doctor died, he told us to. He knew it was the only way we'd stay alive. They brainwashed us for a while, slides, that stupid laser. You know the drill." She shuddered at the memory. "We fought it for a while, tried to keep each other sane. Back in Siberia, they taught us methods of self-hypnosis, ways of keeping your mind strong against it all. Finally, we realized that the smartest thing to do was to play along, so we did." She drank the last sip of water and sat the empty glass on the floor by her feet. "For eight years." Katya watched a frown of sympathy cross Jondy's face. 

"After a while they finally told us what they were training us for. We were stronger, faster, better than the X5's, they said, and they were sending us out to 'reclaim' some subjects that had escaped years earlier. We got a two-week crash course on Zack, every habit he had, every tendency they'd ever observed. He was the key, they said, 'find the CO and the rest will be easy.'" She smiled faintly at the memory, not because it was amusing, but because it made her think of the man who lay asleep back at the warehouse. 

"So, on a bright spring morning in '17 they took us out and set us loose in Boise, where they thought he was. Once they were out of sight, we had those fake barcodes removed and got the hell out of Dodge before they realized we'd gone AWOL. We've been on the run ever since." 

"Which is where Zack comes in," Jondy prompted. Katya nodded. 

"We ran into your brother a few weeks ago. I knew what he was, but he'd lost his memory, and he didn't know. I didn't know what to do, so I figured I should at least keep an eye out in case something happened. A few days ago, Manticore's clean-up crew showed up and came after us, so we had to go get him. Lord knows he couldn't help himself." 

That was when Katya saw it. Four sets of eyes suddenly dropped to the floor, almost as if in guilt. She squinted her eyes and studied the people in front of her. There was something strange going on, and she was going to get to the root of it. 

"Why didn't Zack know who he was?" 

The silence in the room was deafening. No one seemed to want to answer. 

"Why didn't he know?" she repeated. 

"Manticore got him back," Max finally said. "They . . . did things to him there, so when he lost his memory, we figured it would be best if he couldn't remember." 

Katya couldn't believe what she was hearing. She thought she was going to be ill. "So you just dumped him in the middle of nowhere and lied to him?" 

"It wasn't like that," Max said in a whisper, her voice almost cracking beneath the weight of unshed tears. "They brainwashed him, reprogrammed him to kill someone, and if he remembers-" 

"Who? Who did they want him to kill?" 

"Eyes Only." 


	14. This

Chapter Fourteen:

This . . . 

Katya sighed as she gazed out westward through the warehouse window at the water below. Miles and miles away lay Siberia and the burned out ruins of her first home. Why the memories pressed her so this morning, she didn't know. It wasn't that she wanted to go back, no, she would never give up her freedom so easily, but somehow she couldn't help but think back to a time when things made more sense. 

When she was a little girl, Katya had never once imagined that she'd spend her life looking over her shoulder, afraid that someone would catch her and take her back to hell. Never once during their training sessions in the old gymnasium had she had to worry about a secret government agency trying to kill her for no reason other than the fact that she existed, and never once as Nikolai coaxed them to sleep with stories of Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower had she ever imagined Zack.

None of that mattered now. Regardless of what she'd thought or what she'd planned, here she was, living in an abandoned furniture warehouse and gazing out across the Pacific to a home and a childhood that no longer existed. Maybe they'd never existed in the first place, but here she was, nonetheless. 

Frowning, she leaned forward to prop her elbows on the busted out windowsill, her chin resting in her hands. _Zack._ Now there was a mystery. How in the world did she end up seven-eighths of the way in love with a man from Manticore, a man whom she'd once been trained to hunt down, a man who's life was as muddled as Zack's was? She frowned at the sound of approaching footsteps, wondering just how she should handle the situation.

"Hey." Swallowing she turned to face him.

"Hey." She didn't quite know how to react to him, now that she knew the truth. She wondered how much of his memory that little widget in his brain had managed to put back together._ He took a bullet point-blank to the head_, Max had said. They'd used him as an organ donor for a while, too, even Max had his heart, and when they were done with him, they'd put him back together with manufactured parts. She glanced down towards the floor, careful not to make eye contact.

"Misha said you remembered some things last night." She watched him shift awkwardly on his feet at the mention of the dreams.

"Yeah."

"You okay?" She watched him shrug, then lifted her eyes to his face. A mistake, she realized as she felt her stomach flip. Maybe one of those eyes wasn't real, but they didn't stir her any less. Unconsciously, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth and began to chew it lightly.

"Why do you do that?" It took her a moment to realize what he meant. Slowly he reached out his hand to cup her cheek. Running his thumb across her lips, he brushed it from between her teeth and gazed down at her, a frown resting on his face. "Katya," he almost whispered, "what did I do wrong?"

"What?" She was drowning in his eyes, it was almost as if he could see right through her, straight into her very soul, but she didn't mind a bit.

"You've been avoiding me all morning. I must have done something. I'm sorry."

"No," she shook her head. "You . . . you didn't do anything wrong. It's just . . . it's just me, that's all." She glanced down for a moment. "Worrying about things, just like I always do."

"I'm sorry," he said again, and Katya's heart melted. Here was a wonderful, beautiful man, a man with scars and shadows on his soul, but a wonderful man, nonetheless. It wasn't his fault. Maybe, just maybe, she could hold his hand as he walked through those shadows, and maybe she could help heal those scars and everything would be okay in the end.

"So," she said, reaching up to take his hands in hers, "want to go for a walk?"

"Well, that's him," Jondy said with a sigh as she glanced down from one of the upper storage balconies of the warehouse. "I haven't seen him since I was in San Francisco, just a few months before Logan sent out that cable hack warning us to leave." She frowned as she watched the scene below. "Maybe we shouldn't feel so guilty for leaving out some details. Looks like Katya left out a few herself." Max was silent. "What's wrong, baby sister?"

"He looks okay, doesn't he?" Max seemed worried, but Jondy knew that she was feeling guilty.

"Yeah," she said, resting an arm around Max's shoulder. "He'll be alright. He's a survivor, just like the rest of us." Max's frown only deepened.

"Do you think he'll hate me when he sees me?" Max looked up at her sister, her eyes almost pleading for the answer she wanted to hear. "What if he remembers what happened, what I did to him?" She shook her head, almost as if in defeat. "I'm the one who did this to him."

"Oh, no you aren't, so don't even try that. You did what any of us would have done." She gave Max an encouraging smile. "One day he'll remember _everything,_ and then he'll understand." She glanced back down at the two people below. "Either way, it looks like big brother has other things on his mind at the moment."

Logan glanced over at the ringing phone with a frown. Someone was trying to get in touch with Eyes Only. "Hello?"

"I know that you can find them. You've got to warn them."

Logan wrinkled his brow in confusion. He didn't know the voice. "Warn who? About what? Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"Oh no, they're coming," the voice said nervously. "I've gotta go. I'll call back." 

And then there was nothing but Logan's confusion and the sound of the dial tone in his ear.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Katya asked Zack as they gazed out at the setting sun. Playfully, she kicked the water with her foot, splashing his bare feet and wetting the leg of his jeans. Smiling, he splashed her back.

They'd begun the day walking along the shoreline, mostly because Katya had needed fresh air to think, yet couldn't bear to part with him. Somehow their wandering feet had led them farther into the city, into the park where they watched a group of children play a game of baseball. After watching the team they'd been rooting for lose, they joined a group of teenagers in a game of basketball, which they'd intentionally lost, so as not to make them feel badly about themselves. Eventually they'd eaten at a diner a few blocks from the park. It was small, and the furnishings looked old, but it was clean, and it had the feel of a family business that had been around for several generations. It was good to know that some things had survived the Pulse.

Cautiously, Zack reached his hand along the wooden dock upon which they sat and took Katya's hand in his. She didn't move, but he saw a small smile light her face, and then, without warning, he pushed her off the dock and into the water below.

"Hey!" Before he knew it, her hand reached up from the water, latching onto his ankle and pulling him in. She gave him a thorough dunking for good measure.

"That ought to teach you to mess with me," she laughed as he pushed her under again. They splashed and sputtered like children for several minutes, until the sun vanished beneath the horizon and it was time to go in. Hand in hand they made their way back to the warehouse and sat down on the floor next to the mattress that served as Katya's bed.

"I've been thinking about something," Zack began, "all day, in fact." Katya's gaze flickered down to their joined hands.

"Oh, what's that?" She glanced up into his face and found that the room seemed to be turning in circles.

"This . . ." he whispered, and before she realized what he was about to do, Zack had leaned over to brush his lips across hers. 

The earth was spinning. She could feel it, and she could feel her heart pounding, or was that his? For the life of her, she didn't know, and somehow she couldn't make herself care. She'd been thinking about this, too, she realized, but she'd been afraid to admit it. _No time like the present . . . _

Sighing slightly, she pushed against him, wrapping her arms around him, and pulling him closer. Goosebumps went down her spine as she felt his arms circle her waist, and ever so slowly she pulled him down onto the mattress with her. She could feel him trembling, or was that her? Slowly he pulled away, gazing down at her with eyes that were suddenly a few shades darker, a few shades more mysterious, and very, very tempting.

"Katya," he whispered down at her, his eyes roaming over the features of her face.

"Yes?" Why couldn't she keep a clear thought in her head?

"Katya." In a daze, she pulled her eyes up to meet his, and suddenly she realized that Zack wasn't just saying her name. He was asking a question. He was stating his case, begging her to give the answer they both wanted to hear. How many times had it been about her DNA, she wondered? Even with Zack it had been once, but now, this time it would be about something else. 

Gazing up into the depths of his eyes, she paused to savor the moment. She wanted to remember looking up at him like this, to remember the way he was looking at her, the way his hand felt against her cheek, and then she pulled him down to meet her, pausing only a moment to whisper "yes" against his trembling lips as she met them with her own.

Katya awoke slowly, only slightly surprised by the feel of a warm body against her own. Opening her eyes, she turned her head to watch Zack sleep. He was so childlike, so innocent, and at that moment realization hit her like a strong punch to the gut. All this time she'd been measuring love by degrees, deciding what fraction of the way she'd fallen. _Three-fourths, seven-eighths . . ._ God, but she'd been an idiot. She'd been all the way there the whole time, and it made her more than a little giddy. Reaching over, she pushed a strand of hair from his face. He stirred in his sleep but did not wake. _Why, just once, why can't it be about love? _She'd asked herself that many times, but now, suddenly, everything had changed. 

__

So this is it, she thought. For so long, she'd wished for one time, just once that it wasn't about hormones, about going into heat, and now she had it. _So this is what it's like . . ._

Smiling to herself, she snuggled closer to Zack beneath the old blanket, and breathing in his scent, she drifted off to sleep blissfully unaware of what was happening next to her.

In Zack's mind, he handed her a red balloon. He saw her hanging from the bars of the cell, a noose about her neck, as if dead, but he knew that she wasn't. He remembered a cabin, brushing the hair from her face in the firelight, and he remembered watching them wheel her body in on a gurney, a trickle of blood running from her nose. 

__

She's gone.

No!

Bring her back!

She needs an X5 heart.

X5-599, I've got a heart for you.

As the sound of a gunshot echoed in his ears, Zack's eyes snapped open. He experienced a moment of panic at the feel of a body next to his, and then he remembered. _Katya. _Turning his head, he watched her face, a peaceful expression magnifying its beauty in sleep.

He remembered. _Max._ He was in love with Max. He'd died for Max, and they'd brought him back. He remembered watching himself in a mirror, his reflection a mask of scarred flesh and metal. Subconsciously, he reached up to touch his face, but he felt only skin. _Max . _. . but what about Katya?

Glancing over at her, he realized why she'd looked so familiar. She was so similar to Max. He remembered her brothers explaining the part about stolen DNA, and realized what must have happened, but it wasn't the same. He could look at the woman sleeping beside him and see the similarity, but he didn't see Max. All he saw was Katya.

__

Max. He was in love with Max, and yet here he was lying next to Katya, a woman he'd made love to only hours before, and try as he might, he couldn't regret it. At least he didn't think he did. God, but he was confused. Could one feel guilt but not regret?

__

Max. He was in love with Max, but what then was this feeling he had for Katya?

Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his tired face and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling high above, his heart lost and his mind confused. All he knew for certain was that he had never felt so lost in his entire life.


	15. Anything But Brotherly

Chapter Fifteen:

Anything But Brotherly 

Drifting slowly back from the realm of dreams, Katya sighed and stretched luxuriously, much like a cat that had just awoken from a nap in the sun. Taking a deep breath, she smiled. She could still smell his scent, that unique combination of feline and man that she knew so well. _So this is what it's supposed to feel like the morning after,_ she thought to herself as she turned towards him. _A girl could get used to-_

"Zack?" she whispered as her eyes popped open. The space beside her was empty. And cold. _Oh no . . . _Grabbing her clothes, she jerked them on and hurried into another room as she was still pulling the shirt over her head. Tanya and Mikhail sat on the floor across from each other, eating from what appeared to be a pan of oatmeal. She didn't pause to exchange morning formalities, but cut right to the chase. "Where is he?" 

Mikhail glanced up at his sister, one eyebrow raised as he surveyed her somewhat tussled image, his eyes moving from the top of her head, down to the yet untied laces of her sneakers, and back up again. His eyebrow lowered, but a mischievous light appeared in his eye as he returned his attention to his breakfast. Tanya grinned knowingly. "Where's who?" she asked innocently as she took another bite.

Katya didn't feel like playing games. She'd awoken in the middle of the night to hear Zack mumbling Max's name over and over again. It would be enough to worry a girl if she hadn't known that Max was his sister. She shook her head. He'd remembered something last night, that much she knew, but what and how much he remembered was still a mystery, one that she was afraid to solve. If he remembered what they'd done to him at Manticore . . . 

"Relax," Tanya said with a shrug, finally deciding to end her sister's torment. "He went for a walk. And don't worry. Seryozha's keeping an eye on him." 

Katya released a breath she hadn't realized that she'd been holding and flopped down on the floor beside Misha. "Thank God." She closed her eyes for a moment in a silent prayer. When she opened them again, she found that the grin had not yet left its position on her sister's face.

"Don't even start," she sighed as she reached for the pan of oatmeal.

"What?" Tanya responded innocently. Filling her spoon again and lifting it towards her lips, she bit back a chuckle. _How ironic,_ she thought to herself. _All four of us, and _she_ was the first one to take the fall . . . _

"You know what? I have to agree with Logan on this one, Max." Jondy crossed her arms in front of her as they gazed up at the weather-beaten exterior of the old warehouse. Some of the boards were rotted, and she could barely make out touches of white paint on the bricks. The place had been abandoned for quite some time. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea." 

Max shook her head as she gazed up at the sign hanging crookedly above the door. "_Wilson's Furniture,_" it read, _"Because It's More than a House, It's a Home._" "I've got to know what he remembers," she said with a frown. "If he doesn't remember . . . just . . . maybe there's a chance to turn it around." She turned to face her sister and shrugged. "Maybe this time he won't see Logan as a threat. Maybe we can avoid everything happening again."_ Oh God, but I hope so,_ she added silently as they began to walk towards the busted-in side door. Jondy frowned at her sister's back as she followed. She hoped so, too.

As they climbed between the boards of the building's blocked off entrance, they were met by the warehouse's three occupants, but that was something they'd been expecting. Max swept her gaze from left to right, making a quick assessment of the people before her. First was Katya, who dropped her assumed fighting stance as soon as she recognized her visitors. To Katya's left stood a dark-haired woman who looked vaguely familiar. After a second, Max realized that she must have been cloned off of a redheaded X5 she'd seen in formation back at Manticore. As her eyes moved to the end of the row, she felt her breath catch in her throat, and judging by Jondy's sharp intake of breath, her sister was seeing the same thing.

"Oh God . . . " Jondy breathed in her ear.

"At ease," Katya muttered to her siblings. "Just Max and Jondy, Zack's sisters." Max watched as Katya's companions relaxed, but she couldn't stop staring at the man on the end . . . and he couldn't stop staring at her.

Katya made a few brief introductions, but stopped to chuckle at her brother, who was still staring at Max. Tanya simply shook her head. 

"I'm sorry," Mikhail said after a moment, shaking his head. "It's just a little unnerving."

"Tell me about it," Jondy muttered, then looked over at Max. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Max nodded as she took in the blonde haired, brown-eyed man before her. He looked different, but it was still the same. "I'm sorry-" she began to say to Mikhail, but he interrupted with a grin.

"Let me guess. I look like someone you know, right?" Two heads nodded in unison.

"Our brother," Max began. "His name was Jack." She glanced down to the floor for a moment. "He died before the escape. He never made it out." She watched him frown in sympathy.

"I'm sorry."

Max shrugged, shaking off the memory. "It's okay. Not your fault."

"Looking for Zack, right?" Katya asked after a moment. Max nodded. Katya sighed, giving herself a moment before telling them what they had a right to know. 

"I think he remembered you last night, in his sleep," she said finally. Max took a deep breath, then let it out. "He went for a walk this morning. Seryozha went with him." Motioning them towards the door, Katya led them out into the sunshine.

__

Just what is between her and Zack, Max wondered as they followed Katya out the door,_ . . . and how does she know what he was dreaming about . . . _A glance in Jondy's direction showed that her sister was thinking the exact same thing. They shared a conspiratorial grin as they watched Katya squat down on the walkway, sniff the air, and then rise to continue in the same direction. It was, Max thought as they followed Katya down the walk, quite similar to the method Joshua often used, though much more discrete.

Logan rubbed his eyes and propped his chin in his hand. This was getting him nowhere. He'd gone through every file Sebastian or any of his other contacts had been able to dig up on Project 44. The operation made Manticore look like an open book, and he had to admit that it seemed hopeless. Of course, so was keeping his mind off of Max.

She and Jondy had gone to check in on Zack some time ago, and he was more than a little worried. Logan didn't know what Zack remembered, and if he remembered Max's part in what had happened to him, he feared that Zack may not be too happy to see her. The plan was to make Zack believe that he didn't want to kill Eyes Only before he remembered that he really did want to, but he had to be skeptical, considering that it was his own ass on the line. _Four 44's and two X5's,_ he reminded himself. _He doesn't have a chance._ Now he just had to convince himself that that was true.

Sighing, he glanced over to the digital counter on his desk. _27:32:14,_ it read, twenty-seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and fourteen seconds until Max's final blood test, twenty-seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and thirteen seconds until they would know if they were free of the virus, twenty-seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and twelve seconds . . . 

Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the screen in front of him. He'd spent the last 24 hours trying to find the Judas of Project 44, the person at the Siberian base who had turned them over to Manticore, but he'd run out of options. He didn't have nearly enough information, but from what Sebastian had sent him and from what he had learned from Katya, he knew of only two survivors among the staff at the base. The first had been a nurse named Danielle Mauroy. The second appeared to have been General Thomas Bates.

Mauroy, however, had been murdered in her home in the fall of 2009, along with her husband and son, the victims of an apparent break-in. Bates had been murdered when someone attempted to hijack his car less than a week later. Both incidents had been written off as part of the crime wave that traveled around the globe in the wake of the Pulse, but Logan was no fool. The deaths of Mauroy and Bates were too convenient to be marked off as coincidence. The Coalition had been making sure that Project 44 remained a secret. 

The fact that both had been off base at the time of the attack pointed to their guilt, but nothing else did. He had checked both of their financial records and found nothing, no large inexplicable deposits into bank accounts, no new cars, no new houses, nothing, only two small headlines in newspapers which had been run once and then buried on microfiche in somebody's basement.

And Logan was no closer to finding out just what had happened that night.

Zack frowned as he stared out at the water, blissfully unaware that Sergei was watching him from a window half a block away. His thoughts were a jumble of memories, but his mind kept wandering back to the images of two faces that insisted upon taking over his thoughts, two faces that seemed annoyingly similar. 

Taking a deep breath, he tried to return to the issue at hand. He remembered putting the gun to his own head. He remembered pulling the trigger. He knew that Max was alive because he remembered her holding him that night in her apartment, but mostly he remembered what Manticore had turned him into. Again he raised a hand to his face to feel the flesh that covered it, but nothing seemed amiss. Reaching down to the wood at his feet, he picked up a rusty tin can and hurled it out over the water as far as he could.

Why couldn't he remember what had happened to make him lose his memory? Closing his eyes, he concentrated as hard as he could, but the last thing he remembered was leaving Crash to rescue Max from the Steelheads. The next thought to cross his mind nearly made his blood freeze, nanocytes and all. _What if it was the Steelheads? What if they did something to Max? What if something happened and I didn't get her out? What if-_ Behind him, the sounds of footsteps on the wooden planking reached his ears, and he spun around to face the intruder.

Relief was all he felt when he saw her standing there, alive and well. And there was Jondy standing beside of her. She smiled.

"Max?" She came forward and reached out to hug him.

"Hey, big brother." He let out a sigh. Max was alive. For the moment, that was all that mattered, and maybe he held on a little too long because she began to pull away. He found his arms full of Jondy, instead of Max.

"Hey, Zack," she beamed up at him. "Watcha been up to?" He frowned.

"I have no idea," he muttered to himself, suddenly wishing that Jondy would go away. She was his sister, and he loved her, but he wanted to be alone with Max, to assure himself that she really was all right. _It doesn't matter,_ he told himself. _She's here. She found me. There'll be time enough for that later._

In the distance, Sergei and his sister watched the three X5's on the dock. They listened to the conversation that followed as Jondy and Max told Zack a lie, a well-planned tale of how he had vanished that night after saving Max from the Steelheads and never been heard from again. It hurt her to know he was being lied to, but Katya knew it was too soon for the truth. The shock of it all might send him spiraling off out of control, and Katya didn't want to think about what would happen then.

Frowning, she wondered how it would all turn out. Eventually, Zack would remember everything. What would happen when he did? It hurt to think about that.

Shaking her head, she allowed herself the admission of a truth. She was treading in dangerous territory. She had already broken the first rule. She'd already allowed herself to fall in love with Zack, but she had to be careful. The situation was complicated enough. If she allowed herself to become too comfortable with it, to let her guard down, the results could be disastrous.

Glancing back down the street at Zack and his sisters, she realized that the conversation had broken up. Zack was now standing at the edge of the dock gazing out at the water as Max and Jondy silently made their way back along the walk, but suddenly Zack turned his head to gaze after them. With her acute vision, Katya could tell that the gaze was aimed at Max, and her heart sank with the realization that it was anything but brotherly.


	16. And Romeo and Juliet Thought They Had Pr...

Chapter Sixteen:

And Romeo and Juliet Thought They Had Problems . . . 

Late into the night sleep eluded Katya's beleaguered mind. As she tossed and turned, her gaze moved from wall, to ceiling, and then back to another wall over and over again. 

__

God, but it hurts. It did unmentionable things to her insides to know that the only reason Zack treated her the way he did was because she looked like someone else, someone that he was in love with but couldn't remember. Until now.

As she stared up at the ceiling through the darkness, she fought the almost overwhelming urge to let it all out, to release the sobs that tore at her aching heart, but she didn't cry. She wouldn't let herself. After all the pains and losses in her life, she'd gotten used to putting on a stiff upper lip, and she wouldn't let herself give in. If she gave in, if she let herself shed a single tear, the pain would eat her alive. Even now she could feel it gnawing away at her soul. God, but it hurt.

__

Last night . . . Oh God, but she didn't want to think about last night.

This, she reminded herself as she turned to stare at a wall, this was just another reason why she should never have let her guard down. _Never think about the things you want that you just can't have, _she lectured herself. _Never become too comfortable with your situation. Never tie yourself down so tightly that you can't run if you need to. _Over and over again she repeated those three rules in her head, a sort of punishment for breaking the first two. 

__

In a way, this was all your fault, Katya. You did it to yourself. How many times had she repeated those three rules to her siblings, she wondered? And why had she decided to break them herself?

When she finally drifted off to sleep hours later, those three rules were still ringing in her ears, and she was still denying the truth, that the dampness on her cheeks was more than just her imagination.

__

Beautiful, he thought as he gazed down at Katya's face, her eyes closed in a troubled sleep. He could see that she'd been crying. He could still see the traces on her cheeks, and he knew it was his fault.

She knew. Somehow she knew about Max. Sighing, he moved his gaze to the window and rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wipe the image of her tears away, but they wouldn't leave his mind. 

He hadn't meant to hurt her. He just hadn't remembered.

Turning back to gaze down at her face, he took a good look, measuring the similarities between her features and Max's, but somehow, gazing down at Katya, he couldn't remember a single thing about Max. All he could recall was the way Katya's green eyes sparkled when she laughed, the way she bit her lower lip when she was nervous, the way she smiled when . . . 

He was driving himself crazy, he realized as he barely resisted the urge to wipe the tears from her face. He didn't understand what he felt for Katya, couldn't even begin to find the words to describe it. All he knew was that he loved Max. Beyond that, he didn't even know where to begin.

__

Fifty-eight minutes and forty-four seconds. _Fifty-eight minutes and forty-three seconds. Fifty-eight minutes and . . . _

Shaking his head, Logan pulled his eyes away from the timer. Sitting here staring at the clock and watching the time ticking away would get him nowhere. He needed to find something to occupy his mind, but he'd been trying unsuccessfully to read up on an illegal arms dealer for over two hours, and he hadn't been able to keep his mind on the task at hand. He knew he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else, so it was useless to try to get anything done. 

__

Fifty-eight minutes and thirty-six . . . Shoving a hand through his hair, Logan pushed himself away from the desk and paced across the room to look out the window.

People of all shapes and sizes hurried about the streets below, though they all looked alike from so far above. Some were homeless, no doubt, and some were only jobless. Others were possibly on their lunch breaks, but Logan didn't care. As he stared out over the city, the only thought in his head was to wonder how long the blood test would take. Frowning, he resisted the urge to watch the clock again. Watching the time tick slowly away was enough of an agony, but not knowing what the result would be was almost too much to bear.

Logan frowned, pulled from his thoughts by the ringing of the phone on his desk. He nearly fell over his own feet in his haste to answer it. "Hello?"

"You've got to warn them." Logan felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He recognized the voice. It was the same mysterious caller who had made contact days earlier.

"Who is this?" he asked.

"White, he's going to-" And then the line went dead, and Logan was left in confusion once again.

Katya sat beside the broken window, staring out towards the Pacific. Pulling her legs up in front of her and hugging her knees to her chest, she silently wished for a cup of hot tea. No, hot tea wouldn't do. She needed something stronger. Maybe if she could get good and drunk it would all go away, but she doubted it. Feeling the rising sting of tears, she closed her eyes and squeezed them shut until the feeling went away.

She knew how to handle a lot of things in the world. She could hold her own against several men in a fight. She could outrun enemy soldiers and hold her breath for minutes longer than any X5 Manticore had ever produced. She knew ways of killing people that would be virtually undetectable to any coroner in the country, but she didn't know how to do this. What did one do when they were in love with someone who wasn't in love with them? And what if that someone was in love with someone else? Was it supposed to hurt this badly to know that that person had never truly cared, but had only used you as a substitute? And how could she be angry at him when he hadn't even realized that was what he was doing? 

Swallowing back a sob, she clutched her knees more tightly against her chest. Footsteps sounded behind her, so silently that even her own sensitive hearing nearly missed them. Katya turned her head to the window, hoping to hide her face from whoever was approaching. 

"Hey," Tanya said as she cocked her head to the side and placed a hand on her hip, "you've been staring out that window all morning. Is there a boat full of cute fishermen out there or something?" She chuckled lightly and took another step towards the window. "Let me see-" but taking a step forward brought Katya's face into her line of vision, and Tanya knew that the tear which slid down her sister's cheek was more than just a trick of the light. She slid down to the floor on her knees and took Katya's hand. "What's wrong, sis?" The look Tanya gave her sister was all it took to crack her resolve, and suddenly, without warning, the dam broke. 

With a muffled sob, Katya gave in and cried her eyes out on her sister's shoulder. Tanya merely held her as she exhausted her tears, caught in a mild state of shock to see her in such a condition. It had to be something bad. Katya never cried. It made her too vulnerable to the world, and vulnerability was one thing that Katya would never tolerate in herself. 

When the tears had subsided, she pulled away and stared back out the window, as if embarrassed by her uncharacteristic show of weakness. Tanya merely sat beside her, waiting until she was ready to talk, and finally, after several minutes of silence, Katya broke down and spent the next hour and a half telling her sister the whole heart-breaking story.

The clock was blinking zeros at him. It had been for almost two hours now. Shaking his head, he glanced down at the carpet at his feet and was almost surprised to see that he hadn't worn a hole through it pacing back and forth. He'd actually considered taking off the exoskeleton and sitting in the wheelchair for the sake of his floor if nothing else, but whenever the news came, whatever it was, he didn't want to take it sitting down.

There were two things weighing heavily on his mind. One was Max, and the other was his mysterious caller. Still, he had to admit that the phone calls were running a distant second. 

Making his way back across the room, he stared down at the telephone. He'd considered calling Dr. Carr several times to see if there was anything holding them up, but it was fear that stopped his hand every time he reached for the phone. What if there was some complication? What if the cure hadn't worked? What if, at this very moment, Max and Jondy were trying to get in contact with the lab tech to try again? He pulled his hand away from the phone once more and shoved it into his pocket. If something had gone wrong, what was worse? Finding out now or driving himself crazy waiting?

Pacing back to the window, he stopped to stare out at the city once again. How many people out there had met a girl in line at the market or bumped into one on the street, fallen in love, and gotten married without having to worry about a single secret government agency or genetically targeted retrovirus? Why was it that he always seemed to have to do everything the hard way? 

That thought, at least, brought a smile to his face. So what if things between him and Max were more complicated? She was, after all, worth it. Crossing his arms in front of him, he turned to pace back towards the blinking zeros in his office. It was only then that he realized that he was being watched.

Max stood in the doorway, watching him silently, her arms crossed in front of her. As always, her body language was unreadable, but there was something in her brown eyes that looked mysteriously like unshed tears. He watched her for a few seconds, his heart sinking because she didn't seem very happy. He tried to find something, some reason for hope in her expression, but he found nothing. "Hey."

"Hey," she responded without moving. For a moment, the silence hung so heavily in the air that Logan nearly choked on it.

"Max?" So this was it. Another failed chance. He watched as she dropped her arms to her sides and took a few steps forward to stand directly in front of him. Her expression never changed. He hated to see tears in her eyes, and it hurt a little to realize that he wouldn't able to brush them away when they fell. At least they still had the lab tech on their side. He'd said he was willing to work at it until it was fixed . . . "It's okay, Max. We can try again." He swore inwardly and wished that he sounded a little more upbeat. 

He watched as Max slowly lowered her head to gaze down at her hands, then reached out with her right hand to interlace her fingers with the fingers on his left hand. He registered the shock just as her face lifted towards his and the smile began to spread across her features. _She's so beautiful. _And with that thought came another as he realized belatedly that there was more than one reason for tears . . . 

"So," she said as she took another step closer and gazed up into his eyes, "you think it didn't work . . . " She chuckled lightly as she lifted her face to his. "Think again." His lips met hers halfway.

Air. He needed air, and that was why he'd left the warehouse at dawn to go wandering about the streets of Seattle. Somewhere deep inside, he knew it wouldn't help. He'd been walking for hours, but he knew that no matter where he went, no matter how far he could go, he'd never be able to escape the things that troubled him.

There was only one thing to do. He had to explain it all to Katya, to tell her as kindly as he could and apologize for what had happened, but that would only hurt her more, and he couldn't stand any more of Katya's tears. 

And what about Max? Would Max ever forgive him? How could he lie to her about what had happened between him and Katya? But how could he tell her the truth?

Life, he realized sadly, had been easier before they'd tried to take down Manticore. Sure they lived their lives on the run, but they still did that, didn't they? And when had he stopped living his life by his own rules? He'd done exactly what he'd warned his siblings not to do. If he'd stuck to the objective and stayed hidden, none of this would have happened. Maybe that's what he should do after he apologized to Katya, take Max somewhere safe and start over again. Yes, that was exactly what he would do. Maybe this time, if he promised to stay with her, she would leave Seattle for good. Staying here was far too dangerous.

Emerging from the sewers on the other side of a sector checkpoint, Zack took in the scenery with confusion. This area seemed achingly familiar. Though he'd found that a great many of Seattle's streets looked familiar, there was something about this section of the city that tugged at his memory. There was something here, something from his past. Something very urgent. Something very big.

This, he remembered, had once been the city's financial district. He gazed up at the tall buildings on either side of the street. Things were cleaner here, but only slightly so. Garbage still dotted the sidewalk, though there was much less of it than in some other sections of the city, and the majority of the cars parked along the street looked as though they might actually run. Many of the people here were well dressed, and at the moment, there wasn't a single homeless person in his line of vision, but why did this all look so familiar?

Glancing upward he caught site of a building, a building with windows lining one side as it swept upward towards the clouds. There was something about that building, he could feel it chipping away at the edge of his mind, and he had to know what. Not knowing was driving him crazy, and so he let his feet carry him into the building. When he found that the elevators were all busy, he took the stairs.

Though his mind was a bit foggy and his stomach was twisting in knots, Logan somehow managed to dredge up one coherent thought. _Dear God, please don't let me be dreaming_ . . . He'd had this dream before, sometimes several times a night, but none of his dreams had ever felt so real, and he'd never felt the dampness on Max's face or tasted the salt of her tears on her lips. He'd never felt the weight of her hand on his chest or the brush of her eyelashes against his cheek, and even though he was paralyzed, he could almost swear that he felt his knees shaking.

This had to be real. _Oh please, just let this be real . . . _He frowned slightly as she pulled away, then leaned forward to brush a kiss across her forehead. Their eyes met again, and, inexplicably, they both began to laugh.

"Look at me," Max said as she released him to wipe the wetness from her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "I don't believe I got so girly."

"It's okay," he smiled back, then raised an eyebrow suggestively. "So, how about that perfect quickie?" That sent them both back into giggles as Max leaned back into his embrace and rested her head on his shoulder. _Perfect, _she'd once said_. This is perfect enough for me_, she thought as she breathed in his scent. He smelled like soap, with just a hint of the clean smell of laundry detergent and a touch of cologne added into the mix. Tightening her arms around him, she decided that she never wanted to move again.

__

How long has it been since I've touched her? he wondered as he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. He couldn't remember a second of it, he realized as he sighed into her hair. All he knew was what was here and now. He didn't care about anything else, and even if this was some sort of dream, he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Max sighed against his shoulder, and he smiled at the sound. For a fleeting moment, he considered going to the kitchen and making something nice for dinner, but doing so would require letting go of her, and he wasn't quite ready to do that yet. _Music,_ he thought as he glanced back across the room at the blinking zeros. They needed music. Turning his head to the side, he spotted the stereo remote sitting on the desk beside the timer. _What the hell. Who needs music? _he thought as he took a tiny step backwards, leading Max into a silent dance. She followed readily, swaying with him to a beat that didn't exist. After a moment she lifted her head and smiled.

"If another gossamer shows up, I swear to God that I'm just going to shoot the stupid thing." Logan chuckled as he leaned over to brush his lips across hers. Maybe, just maybe this wasn't really a dream . . .

But it wasn't a dream because it chose that exact moment to become a nightmare.

Max's sensitive hearing picked up the sound just a second before Logan did. Pulling apart and turning towards the doorway, they caught a quick glimpse of Zack's stricken face before he turned and fled the apartment. He was gone almost before they'd realized that he was there. "Oh no . . ." 

Max sighed and took a step away from Logan, her eyes still glued to the door. When she turned to face him again, Logan had already admitted to himself that any chances of a romantic evening had just gone down the toilet.

"Logan, I . . . "

"I know," he said as he watched the worry descend over her features. "You have to go after him."

"He can't remember yet," she said as she took a step towards the door, "or he would have stayed here and . . . " She didn't want to finish that sentence._ I can't lose you now . . . _

"Here," he said, tossing her a phone as she turned. "If anything happens . . . you can give me a heads up, okay?"

"Yeah," she frowned at him for a second, then hurried forward to kiss him one last time. Then, in a flash of black leather, she was gone, leaving Logan alone in the penthouse. 

He sighed audibly in the deathly silence of the apartment. "And Romeo and Juliet thought _they_ had problems," he muttered as he turned and headed back towards his office. 


	17. Thirty Pieces of Silver

Chapter Seventeen:

Thirty Pieces of Silver

__

Matthew 26:14-16

Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, "What will you give me if I betray him to you?" They paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. 

"You don't need to count every bill," White muttered. "It's all there," but the one-armed Russian merely ignored him and continued to count out the crisp one hundred dollar bills which lay on the table in front of him, a task which took a great deal of time, considering that he only had one hand.

"The last time I made a deal with an American, I made the mistake of not getting my money up front," the Russian grumbled as he struggled to replace the strap around a bundle of ten thousand dollars. Yes, Manticore had tricked him that night, but it was a mistake that he would not repeat this time around. This time he was getting his money _before_ he turned over the goods.

White continued to scowl at the man as he counted out his money. It was no terrible inconvenience, he had to admit. In any event, they would have to wait until nightfall to raid the location, so knowing the 44's position could wait an hour or so. Even if the Russian's lead turned out to be a dead end, White knew that he would have no problem getting the money back. _Stupid fool._

Turning his back to the Russian, he leafed through a folder on the far end of his desk. In it were multiple mug shots of the 44's, including a set taken just after their capture in '09 and a set taken just before they had made their escape eight years later. Frowning, he pulled out two pictures of 44-01, then turned and removed two pictures from his top desk drawer. Walking towards the light streaming in through his office window, he compared the two sets.

There was no doubt about it. 44-01 had been cloned off of 452, and that made him very interested. For a moment he toyed with the idea that whatever was happening in 452's DNA might also be present in 44-01, but he quickly threw out the notion. 452 had been some sort of internal cover-up. None of the other X-series created from that DNA sample had anything unusual in their genetic make-up, nothing unusual as far as genetically engineered freaks went, that is. Even if the sample used to create 44-01 _did_ contain that DNA, Voinovich would have caught it, and Manticore would have noticed it in their preliminary studies in '09. Still, it made him curious just what alterations _had_ been made to the 44's DNA code sequences, and it wouldn't be too long before he knew for himself. 

By the time Max reached the front entrance of Fogle Towers, Zack was nowhere in sight. Groaning, she scanned the street in both directions, but even her sensitive eyesight could pick up no sign of her brother. There was only one thing to do. Reaching into her pocket for Logan's phone, she began to dial her apartment. Jondy was either there or at JamPony, and if she could get to the warehouse and tell the 44's what was-

It was then that she saw him, a dark-haired stranger at the end of the block. Glancing casually in both directions, he squatted down on the sidewalk and seemed to smell the air above the concrete before rising and hurrying off down the street. _Bingo._

Max hesitated for a moment. There was only one 44 that she had never met, Sergei, but this man didn't look like any X5 she'd ever seen, either as a child, or in her recent unplanned visit to Manticore. Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe this stranger was doing something else. Still, wasn't it possible that there _were_ X5's she had never seen? And maybe some last minute decision by some project supervisor had prevented his particular DNA sequence from being used in X5 . . . She shook her head. If it was Sergei, she'd need his help, and there was only one way to find out.

"Sergei!" she called as she ran after him. She smiled with satisfaction as he stopped and turned cautiously in her direction. He seemed slightly surprised to see her, but the light of recognition dawned in his blue eyes and he relaxed as she came closer.

"452. Max, right?" She nodded as she watched him frown in thought. "You look so much like . . . nevermind." He shook his head. He'd already been warned of the similarities between Max and his sister, and pointing them out to her now would be beyond redundant. "It's my turn to watch your brother. Mind telling me what just happened that had him flying out of that building back there?" Max frowned as she hurried along beside him.

"Well, there are still some things he doesn't . . . didn't remember. One of them was my boyfriend." She could just hear Original Cindy laughing at that one. How many times had the words _"he's not my boyfriend"_ passed her lips? What a time to finally admit it. She watched a frown cross his face, but she had no way of knowing that it was one of disappointment. 

__

Such a pity, Sergei thought. _Pretty brown eyes like that, and she's already taken._ He shook off the idea. As beautiful as she was, she looked too much like Katya, and flirting with someone who looked like his sister was just too weird. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the view. "Every big brother's duty to hate his sister's boyfriend, right?" He flashed her a smile, one that had caught many a woman's eye in the past few years, but she didn't seem to notice.

__

You don't know the half of it, Max thought, regretting for the millionth time that she and Logan had left out a few pivotal details in their explanation to Katya. "So, can you really track him? Do you know which way he went?" she asked. Sergei merely smiled and took a right at the next corner, motioning her to follow.

He was standing by the edge of the waterfront when they found him. Frowning, she watched from a distance as he picked up a pebble and hurled it out into the water. She'd found him here before, she realized. This was the place where he'd run months ago after accusing Logan of betraying them, the place where he and Max had stood and realized that as long as Manticore existed, none of them could ever have a chance at a normal life. She turned to glance at Sergei but found that he had vanished, likely off into a shadow somewhere to watch. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.

She could tell that he knew she was there by the way he squared his shoulders at the sound of her approaching footsteps, but he made no further acknowledgement of her presence, only continued to send the small stones out into the water one by one. After a moment, he stopped to stare down at the pebbles remaining in his palm before dropping his arm and letting them escape through his fingertips. He was quiet for a moment.

"It was always him," he finally said, his eyes never leaving the ground in front of his feet. "He was the reason you always stayed in Seattle when I told you to leave, the reason you didn't want to go, even though it wasn't safe to stay. He was why you risked exposure."

Max sighed. "Yeah," she whispered, dropping her eyes to the ground at her feet. In truth, there were a million reasons that she'd decided to stay, but somehow, Logan was the only one she could think of at the moment. Raising her gaze from the ground, she found that Zack had turned to look at her, and the sadness that filled the depths of his blue eyes nearly made her heart skip a beat. _No,_ she corrected herself, _his heart._

"It was never me. There never was an _us_, was there Max?" She could hear the pain in his voice, and she hated herself for not knowing how to take it away. She shook her head sadly.

"No, there wasn't." She almost wished she could have lied to him at that moment. He'd suffered enough pain already, but she couldn't bear to lie to him about this. He'd lived enough lies in the past few months. "Zack," she began, but that was all she got out. She didn't know what she wanted to say. 

"But I died for you . . . " The words passed his lips in a whispered plea, as if reminding her of that one self-sacrificing act might give him one last chance, as if it might change the tide of her heart in his favor. There were unshed tears in the sound of his voice, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to go back to being Adam Thompson, a man with no memories, a man with no past. If only . . . 

"I know," Max whispered, wanting to reach out to him, to reassure him in some way. And suddenly she found the words she'd been looking for. _I love you_. Only she couldn't say them because it would hurt him more, because hearing those words would remind him that even if she cared, it wasn't in the way he wanted her to. She would have given anything to walk towards him, to reach out and take his hand, but somehow, her feet seemed frozen to the ground. She watched as he turned once more to face the water and discovered that there was something more painful than the sadness in his eyes, and that was the sight of him turning his back to her. He stood there for a few moments, alone with his thoughts, before he finally spoke again.

"I've been in Seattle too long. Considering what happened back at the ranch, I should keep moving. They're probably trailing us right now, and I can't afford to take that risk." He paused to stare down at the stones at his feet. "I'm leaving Seattle tonight. I don't suppose I could convince you to get out of town before it's too late?" He gave her a moment to respond, though he knew full well how to interpret her silence. "I didn't think you would. I can't be responsible for you if you refuse to act rationally."

"I know," she shrugged. "I don't expect you to be."

And that was where the conversation ended. Zack leaned over to pick up a handful of pebbles and began to toss them into the water once more. He never turned to face her again. After fifteen minutes of heavy silence, Max finally left, her arms folded in front of her in an unsuccessful attempt at comfort. She could hurt for her brother, she realized, and she did, but she couldn't take his hurt away, and there was no way for her to change his mind.

And one by one Zack hurled the pebbles out into the water, trying desperately to send his own loneliness and confusion out with them into the depths, but it didn't work, and he was left there alone, trying desperately to remember a time when at least something made sense in his life.

White hung up the phone on his desk, his hand lingering on the receiver as he glanced up at the one-armed Russian. "The man we have positioned in the harbor has been monitoring the waterfront for two hours, and he says he's found them in an old furniture warehouse." The Russian only grinned.

"You doubted me, Mr. White?" He watched as White pulled his hand away from the phone, placed it palm down on his desk, and leaned a fraction of his weight forward on it.

"Not exactly." That wasn't exactly a lie. "How did you know where they'd be?"

The man shrugged, his empty left sleeve swaying slightly with the motion. "I knew them in Siberia. I know how they think. At a time like this they will think of their homeland. Mother Russia may be beyond their reach, but they can gaze out over the water to their home. Their leader, I know her. This is how she thinks." 

White lifted one corner of his mouth in thought. Maybe the man in front of him was smarter than he'd judged. "We'll send in the troops tonight. By morning, they will no longer be a problem." He watched a smile cross the Russian's scarred face.

"Good, but I want one thing," the man said as he reached for his cane. He chuckled lightly as he hobbled towards the door, White slowing from his normal pace to keep beside him. "I want to see them before they die . . . "

As their voices faded into the distance, White's assistant leaned out the door of the room across the hall and looked both ways before tiptoeing into White's office. Leafing through the papers on his boss's desk, he frowned and bit off a piece of his thumbnail. Then, glancing out the window at the rapidly fading sunset and taking a deep breath, he reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out his cell phone, and began to dial.


	18. Judas

Chapter Eighteen:

Judas

Alec paused just as he was about to take a bite and frowned down at the feline at his feet. Try as he might he just couldn't eat when Milly was giving him that look. "Um, why is she staring at me like that?" he asked Jondy.

"Because you have a sandwich, you idiot," Jondy replied from her place on Max's sofa. She'd already given the cat several pieces of her own sandwich, but Milly seemed more interested in Alec's. She stared up at him with mournful green eyes, the tip of her tail twitching faintly and her head cocked slightly to the side as she gazed longingly at the sandwich in his hands. 

"Well, what am _I_ supposed to do? _Make_ her one?" Blinking flirtatiously, Milly decided that giving him that look wouldn't get her anywhere, so she changed her battle plan. Lifting her feline bottom from the floor, she padded forward to rub against Alec's right ankle. She glared up at him in annoyance when he lifted his leg out of the way.

Jondy rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "Just give her a piece of yours, and she'll leave you alone." 

Alec looked skeptical. "Right . . ."

__

Why can't we just give her Logan's sandwich? he thought as he glanced across the room to where Logan sat. _He's not eating it anyway . . ._ But then again, he hadn't seen Logan do much of anything since he'd arrived. Jondy had called a few hours ago and ordered him to get over to Max's apartment to help play bodyguard to Logan. She'd told him that if he didn't get over there as soon as possible, she would pull some strings and get him fired. He didn't really know if she could do that, but considering how chummy she'd been with Normal, he wasn't sure he wanted to take any chances. _What's up with her and Normal, anyway? _he asked himself for the millionth time. Giving in, he tossed Milly a piece of his sandwich, a very, very small piece. Gobbling it up, Milly licked her lips and began to rub against his left leg.

On the other side of the room, Logan sat unmoving in a chair, his eyes fixed on the cell phone in his hand. Jondy had moved him here right after he'd called her, hoping to protect him from Zack if he should barge into Logan's penthouse bent on murder. In truth, the thought of leaving hadn't crossed his mind. Now, just as he'd been when Jondy had dropped by his apartment, he was sitting in a chair and staring at his phone, seemingly oblivious to the world around him as he waited for it to ring.

Somehow, he didn't know which would be worse. A call from Max would be a warning, a heads-up of what might come, yet he was even more terrified that she wouldn't call. What if Zack remembered his brainwashing, but Max wasn't able to catch up with him and didn't know? What if she couldn't call because Zack had overpowered her, hurt her? The thought was too much to bear. Sighing, he nudged his glasses to the side and rubbed at his tired eyes. This was going to be a long night.

And then the silence was broken by the ringing of the phone in his hand, and Logan jerked so violently that he almost dropped it on the floor. 

Three sets of eyes turned towards him. Even Milly abandoned her interest in Alec's sandwich to glare at his phone. Logan stared down at it as it rang again, then took a deep breath and answered. But it wasn't Max.

"They're going for them now," came the voice of his mysterious caller, "the Russian transgenics. White knows where they are, and he's going after them tonight." Logan took a deep breath. While he was relieved that the news wasn't from Max, he still didn't like the sound of it. "I know you know about this. I know you've been in touch with them. I have a friend . . . I've been going through White's files when he isn't in the office, copying his information and sending it on to you through him. He says that you've been picking it up, so I know you know about the 44's. They're down by the waterfront in an abandoned furniture warehouse, and White's going after them tonight."

Ignoring the concerned gazes of his companions, Logan decided that he didn't really need to know the identity of his caller. There were more important issues at hand. "How long do we have?" he asked.

"I don't know. They just left to get the attack force assembled, not much."

"Thanks, I'll get right on it." And then he had disconnected, and he was already dialing another number.

Max stuck her hands in her pockets as she made her way down the street. Even if she was genetically engineered, being out at night alone on foot wasn't necessarily a smart move in post-Pulse Seattle, so she was trying to keep to some of the busier, better-lit streets on her way back. She hadn't quite decided where she was going, and she had a few more blocks to go before she'd have to decide which way to turn. 

On the one hand, she needed to think, to sort out everything that was happening with Zack, including the uncomfortable little scene a little while ago. He was confused, she knew it, and as much as she'd refused to acknowledge it, she'd known for a long time just how Zack had felt about her. Sighing, she shook her head. Maybe they weren't genetic siblings, but Zack was still her brother, and she would always love him, but never in any other way. She'd been hoping that that was one thing he wouldn't remember, especially after she and Jondy had seen him with Katya.

__

What's going on between them anyway? she wondered as she passed a homeless man burning trash in a barrel. Zack wasn't the type to fall for a girl just because she looked like someone else. Hell, he wasn't the type to fall for a girl, period, but she'd seen the way they acted around each other, and considering Katya's comment the other morning . . . She shook her head. Zack was very confused right now, so there was no second-guessing him.

Pausing at an intersection, she glanced one way down the street, watching the moonlight illuminating the towering silhouette of the Space Needle in the distance. She could always go and think, but on the other hand, she had much more pressing things on her mind. Zack had interrupted them at a very inopportune moment, and she wanted to go back to Logan's apartment. She _had_ to. There'd been so many stops and starts in their relationship, so many second chances gained and lost that she didn't want to waste another moment. Turning towards Fogle Towers, a smile crossed her face at the thought of finally having a nice, peaceful, romantic night with Logan . . . or an unpeaceful one . . .

Her smile turned into a frown at the sound of a ringing phone. She pulled the phone from her pocket warily, uncertain of who might be calling. Logan never really used this phone much, and she strongly suspected that he'd bought it merely to lend out to her, since she never seemed to show any real interest in buying one herself. Who would be calling _this_ phone? Logan? Why? Zack still hadn't remembered anything the last time she'd seen him, and even if he had remembered something, there hadn't been enough time since she'd last seen him for him to get to Logan's apartment. Taking a deep breath, she hit the button and raised the phone to her ear. _Maybe it's just a wrong number . . . _

"Hey," came Logan's voice in her ear. He sounded urgent, but not as if he was in danger himself. "Everything okay?" 

"Yeah. Is everything okay there?" she asked.

"Yeah. No sign of Zack." She let out a sigh of relief.

"You don't have to worry, Logan. He doesn't really remember, but he's pretty pissed at me."

Logan frowned at this, briefly worrying what Zack's reaction might be if he remembered Max's part in what had happened the last time he'd been in Seattle, but he didn't want to dwell on that, not right now. He also didn't want to think about what would be happening right now if Zack hadn't walked in on them. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about that, but I thought I'd give you a heads up. I just got a call from an informant. It seems that White knows where the 44's are. He's going after them tonight." Max stopped in her tracks. _Not again . . . _

"What?" She'd heard him, she just couldn't seem to believe her ears.

"With all the information he has on them, he's probably going to make this a pretty big operation. He's already lost them once because he didn't deploy enough men. I doubt he'll risk that again."

"Great," he heard her say. "Just great." He certainly shared the sentiment, but he couldn't worry about that now. 

"You've been there. You think you can make it over there and warn them?" Frowning, Max glanced down at her pager for the time and tried to calculate the distance in her head. She wished she'd brought her motorcycle.

"I'll try," she said as she turned and headed back the way she'd come.

Zack watched Katya from his place in the doorway as she stared out the window at the moonlight reflecting off the water below. He knew he had to go. Staying was too dangerous, and he knew he should tell Katya that, as well. Why hadn't he already warned them that they should have split up years ago, that staying together was too risky for all of them? Didn't he know that himself? And why was he still here anyway? _You're slipping, Zack. You're slipping . . _. Why was he making it so hard on himself? He should just tell her that he was going to leave and go, but some part of him wanted to do something more, to explain something to her that he couldn't understand himself. 

__

You don't owe her anything, he told himself as he watched her. _You don't owe her any explanations. She knows what it is to be on the run. She knows that there are some things that people like us just can't_ . . . 

He didn't want to finish that thought. Deep inside, he'd always buried those desires behind the façade that he'd so carefully erected. He'd even buried them from himself. He spent his time pretending to be a soldier because that was the only way to keep himself going. A soldier didn't have time to want things like love or a family. A soldier just kept moving. A soldier was strong enough to go without, and he'd forced himself to remain a soldier, even though it got harder and harder every day, eating him away until there was nothing left, but it was a role he had to play. He didn't have a choice. He couldn't give in to that weakness.

But it was harder now, he realized, because he'd been Adam Thompson, had lived a life where he wasn't a soldier, and he wasn't so sure that he wanted to go back. He shook his head at the thought. He had to go back. He didn't have a choice.

__

And the other night . . . you don't owe her any explanations about that, either. It was just like when she was in heat.

Only it wasn't.

__

Two consenting adults, he told himself. _Two consenting adults, and nothing more._ He ignored the voice in the back of his head that screamed to him that lying to himself would do no good.

He was going soft, and it was going to catch up with him. First with Max, and now this. _But what about Max?_ he asked himself. Certainly her rejection had hurt, had left him feeling lost and confused, but he had only felt relief when she had finally left. Standing here, watching Katya, all he could feel was the sense of mind-numbing panic that came with the thought of leaving her. Nothing made sense anymore.

"You haven't been around much the last few days." She spoke without turning, her voice breaking the silence so suddenly that it surprised him a bit. He hadn't realized that she knew he was standing there. He wondered how long she'd known that he was watching her. He wondered how much he had hurt her when she found out about his feelings for Max. Turning from the window she made her way across the room and sat down in a worn chair, all the while avoiding any sort of eye contact with him. She tucked her feet beneath her and lowered her head so that her hair partly shielded her face from his view.

"Yeah, I've been remembering a lot of things, trying to put them all together . . . " He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and glanced down to the scarred floor for a moment, searching for the right words. "I thought . . . I'm leaving tonight. I have to keep moving. They're looking for us all, and staying in one place is too dangerous, too much of a risk if someone notices. If I leave, I stand a better chance . . . " his voice trailed off, as if he was unsure who he was trying to convince of his need to go. Was it her? Or himself? He watched as she closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly against the moonlight streaming in the window. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she lowered her head and took a deep breath. 

__

Come with me . . . 

For a moment, Zack wasn't quite sure whether he'd voiced the words aloud. They'd come upon him so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that he was afraid that he just might have, but she said nothing in response. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it go.

"Look. Katya, about the other night-"

"Just go," she whispered as she raised a hand to her forehead. He realized then that his suspicions were true. She was using a hand to try to hide her tears. He'd made her cry. _Oh God . . ._

"Katya-"

"Just go." He watched her pull a ragged breath into her lungs, and she turned to face him, the tears shining out on her face as she gazed out at him through bloodshot eyes. She'd been crying all evening, he realized, and it had all been his fault. 

It broke then, the pain, the hurt, the anger, and he watched as the expression on her face changed. Setting her jaw, she raised her chin a notch, seeming for a moment oblivious to the tears still sliding down her cheeks. "Go, and don't come back, damn you."

He shrunk back a little then, partly in reaction to the pain it caused him to know that he'd hurt her, and partly in shame. He gazed back at her for a moment, realizing after a second that the very sight of him was probably causing her more hurt, so not knowing what else to do, Zack turned and left the room.

Halfway down the stairs, he met Max on her way up. She watched as he glanced sadly in her direction then turned his gaze back to the floor, but she didn't know what had just happened, and she thought he was still angry with her. Grabbing the front of his jacket, she slammed him back against the wall of the stairwell for effect. It got his attention.

"You've got to get out. White's coming. He's coming _now._" She watched as understanding dawned in his eyes, then dug in her heels, expecting him to grab her and try to drag her from the building, but he did neither. Instead, he turned without a word to her and raced back up the stairs, down the hall and into one of the old offices at the end. 

"Katya." He burst through the door, rushing to her side and trying to pull her from the chair. It gave him an excuse to hold her, which made him feel slightly better, and a little foolish considering that there were more important issues at hand.

"Damn it, why won't you just leave me alone?" she half-yelled, half-sobbed in his ear as he pulled her to her feet. Frowning, he pulled back just enough to frame her face with his hands.

"Katya, I'm sorry. God, but I'm so sorry." There was something else he wanted to say to her, only he didn't know what. He didn't understand it himself, but he allowed himself a brief second to wipe the tears from under her eyes with the pads of his thumbs before continuing. "We've got to get out, Katya. We've got to get out now. They're coming for us, and they'll be here any minute."

His words were accented by a soft click in the doorway, and then came a voice that Max knew by heart. A voice she wished she could forget.

"Actually, they're already here."

Turning, Max made a quick assessment of their chances of escape, but judging from the number of people pouring in the doorway, the place must be crawling with soldiers. Leaning towards the window, she ventured a glance out, but judging from the number of soldiers stationed outside, a jump out the window wouldn't help much either. She might be able to make a run for it once she was on the ground, but she could only fall as fast as gravity would allow, and she'd probably look like Swiss cheese by the time she hit the ground. That move wouldn't help Zack or Katya, either, so she plastered on her sweetest smile and turned to face their visitor.

"Hello, Ames. Long time no see. How ya been doin'?"

"Keeping busy looking for you." There was no real chance at escape she realized, so she had to admit that he'd won this round, but she'd only allow him that. She frowned as an old man in a brown overcoat entered the room using a cane. The left sleeve of his coat dangled loosely at his side.

"So, who's your friend? I don't believe we've been properly introduced." The main raised his eyes to meet Max's gaze as he heard himself mentioned. A twisted grin crossed his scarred face, and Max heard a muffled gasp behind her.

"Oh my God," Max heard Katya whisper, and she turned to find the woman's green eyes riveted on the stranger as he stood in the doorway, a look of horror and disbelief on her face. "Nikolai?"


	19. Freaks and Abominations

Chapter Nineteen:

Freaks and Abominations

Sergei came to slowly, taking care not to alert anyone else in the room to the fact that he had regained consciousness. He had learned long ago that appearing to be out cold could be a tactical advantage in certain situations. If his captors thought that he couldn't hear them, they might talk a little more freely, possibly revealing information he might need to make an escape. Or, if they weren't paying close enough attention, allowing him to make that escape. 

It took several moments for clarity to return to his stunned senses. The first sensation to break through was the annoying throbbing in his left arm. He vaguely remembered someone coming up behind him with some sort of taser, only it couldn't have been a regular taser. Whatever it was, it had knocked him flat before he'd had time to react, and that was saying something. 

Concentrating on his surroundings, he found that he was lying on his side on a wooden floor, a very cold wooden floor. In fact, it smelled like the warehouse, so he must not have been taken anywhere. He could feel the metal of the handcuffs that bound his wrists together behind his back. And rope, they'd used rope, too. Frowning inwardly, he realized that his ankles were bound in a similar manner. Someone really wanted him to stay put.

Taking a tiny whiff, he tried to separate the smells as they hit his nose. He could smell Katya . . . and Zack . . . and there was Max, the X5 he'd met earlier today. There were the scents of other people, as well, he realized, many other people, but none of them seemed familiar, none of them except . . . _No, it can't be . . . _

"So, Katya, kind of ironic, isn't it?" came Max's voice. "Who'd have thought that the Judas of the Siberian base would have sold his soul to my own personal anti-Christ?" She paused for a moment to smile up at White, though Sergei's eyes were closed, and he received only the audio portion of the confrontation going on across the room. "I guess it's a small world after all." She glanced over to her companion, whose recent shock had advanced into full-blown confusion. 

"So it was you . . . " Katya shook her head, trying to take it all in. Nikolai who had told them bedtime stories . . . Nikolai who had tucked them in at night . . . Nikolai who had . . . betrayed them? "Why, Nikolai? Why?" 

The old Russian took an unsteady step forward, his cane making a hollow thump as it settled against the old wooden floor. A look of distaste passed through his eyes, finally settling on his face and illuminating his scarred features with an eerie sort of glow. "You know why," he finally said, sounding for a moment as though he thought the answer was obvious. When no one responded and no understanding dawned on Katya's face, he tapped his cane on the floor impatiently and continued. "Because you were there. Easy money just asking to be earned." He waited until he could detect the hurt in her eyes before he continued. "Why do you think I let you get so close?" At that, a gleeful smile spread across his features, and he chuckled lightly. "I even told you why. I wanted to see the wonders of the world." He spread his arm in front of him, lifting the cane skyward, as if to indicate the world itself, then dropped it back to his side. "The four of you were my ticket out of Siberia." Max watched as the 44 beside her shook her head, her eyebrows lowering as the confusion on her face turned to anger.

Katya's gaze moved across the room to settle on the place where her brother's motionless body lay against a wall. Memories of cold nights in Siberia flashed through her mind, stories of Big Ben . . . the Eiffel Tower . . . the Grand Canyon . . . She turned back to Nikolai, her head moving subtly from side to side with disgust.

"You lied to us, you son of a bitch," she finally said. Her voice was calm, but the hurt and anger shone in her eyes. "We loved you, and you lied to us, to innocent children." Nikolai scoffed at this, chuckled a little more. 

"Innocent? Children?" And suddenly, just as rapidly as it had appeared, the amusement faded from his face, and he began to yell. "Hah! Monsters! Freaks! _Abominations!_" Raising the cane, he shook it at her. "You were evil! Wrong!" Taking a raspy breath, he gave the cane one last shake for good measure, and then, just as suddenly as his outburst had begun, he lowered his cane back to the floor and took several calming breaths. His eyes narrowed slightly for just an instant. "What better way for me to make money, to fulfill my dreams, than to turn you over to Manticore? To send you back to the hell from which you came?" A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he chuckled, almost as if the thought amused him. "They promised me money," and then came the outburst once again, so sudden and so unexpected that Max nearly jumped as he pounded the floor with his cane. "They _lied_! They left me there to die! They took my arm and my money, and they left me there for dead! It was Manticore that did this to me!" Using his cane, he motioned towards his left side. "And you . . . _you_ were all created from that cursed place, so it was _your_ fault, too! All of you! _You _did this to me!" Turning his gaze momentarily away from Katya, he moved his accusing eyes over Zack and Max before returning them to her. The hatred that burned in their depths was so hot that Zack could almost feel the heat radiating across the room.

__

He's insane, Max realized sadly as she watched the same understanding dawn on Katya's face and the sorrow darken her eyes. _Completely, utterly insane._

And then, without another word to any of them, Nikolai turned and left the room. "Leave them here," they heard him tell White as they made their way out the door. "When the other two arrive they will not leave without trying to rescue them." And with a soft _click_, the door closed behind them, leaving the startled transgenics alone.

"Interesting friends you have," Zack muttered after White was out of earshot.

"Shut up," Katya responded without so much as a glance in his direction. Leaning forward, she did her best to hug her knees in to her chest. On top of all this, what was happening with Zack was just too much to handle. She sighed and shook her head, immediately hating herself for snapping at him, but she couldn't deal with it right now. She was still caught on Nikolai, and she was having trouble taking it all in. "After all these years . . . and it was Nikolai. Nikolai was the traitor."

__

Traitor. Zack's head snapped up. Something about the word caught in his memory, something illusive, something so far away, yet right on the tip of his tongue. Something that felt very important. _Traitor. Betrayed. Traitor. Enemy._ He tried to shake it off, yet the feeling remained. "Well, they're holding us here as bait for Mikhail and Tatiyana." He heard Katya's sigh and turned his head just in time to catch her chewing on her lower lip. It came then, the overwhelming urge to hold her . . . only his hands were tied, literally. He glanced away guiltily.

With a frown, Katya moved her gaze to the far side of the room, where Sergei lay unmoving against the wall. _He was right_, she thought to herself._ We should have left. If we wouldn't have stayed, we wouldn't be stuck here now. They wouldn't have any of us, and Misha and Tanya . . . what about them?_ She tried to shake off the thought. They'd get away. They had to, but as she stared across the room to Sergei, two things were suddenly painfully clear. 

This was all her fault. She should have known better than to stay in one place, but she'd been so tired of running, and she'd been too preoccupied to think clearly, first with Zack, and then with her suspicions over he and Max. _That's what happens when you break the rules . . ._ She'd been careless, and now it had caught up with her. Of course there was another realization, the realization that if they were to get out of here, she was going to have to put personal feelings aside and get down to business. He was the C.O. of his own unit. He would understand that.

She tried to glance in Zack's direction, but ended up focusing on his shoes instead. "Look," she began, moving her gaze back to rest on the floor beyond her feet. She couldn't bear to look him in the eye. It hurt too much. "I'm sorry . . . about before. I just . . ."

"Don't worry about it," he said, lifting one corner of his mouth as he turned towards her. "We've got more important things to worry about right now." They locked eyes for a moment, a tenuous truce made between them. After a moment, Katya looked away, focusing her eyes on the bindings at her wrists before turning her attention to Sergei's motionless body. 

"Well, little brother, did you see any sign of Misha or Tanya before they zapped you into next week?"

"Not a thing," Sergei responded from his place along the far wall. Max turned her head around to stare at him. She hadn't even realized that Sergei was conscious.

"Any ideas on how to get out of here?" Katya asked as she turned toward Max. "You know this fruitcake better than we do." Max frowned as she glanced across the room to the pieces of plastic and wire that had once been her phone and shook her head. She was trying desperately to come up with a plan, but she was coming up empty-handed. And she was more than a little pissed off. _We finally get rid of this damned virus, and where do I spend the night? Tied up on a cold floor waiting for White to take us to a lab somewhere and carve us into tiny pieces. _She felt like punching something. Alec was lucky that he wasn't here. He probably would have been her first victim.

"Well, there's too many of them for us to take, especially since we're in here and they're out there. White won't take any chances, and my phone's out of commission, so I can't get in touch with Alec or Jondy."

"Or Logan," Katya supplied. From Katya's left came the sound of Zack's muffled _humph._ Katya frowned. "What?" 

__

I don't trust him, Zack thought, though somehow, he didn't quite know why. From what he could remember, he'd never really been too fond of the man, especially since he and Max . . . He shook his head, trying not to focus on the pain of broken dreams. Maybe he didn't like Logan, but there was something that he wasn't quite remembering yet. He could feel it in his bones, but for the life of him, he didn't know what it was. All he knew was that it was very important. "Nothing, just thinking." 

Katya tried not to acknowledge the stab of pain that ran through her. Zack was jealous of Logan, and it hurt to know that, no matter what, all she was was a stand-in for Max. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he glanced down at the bindings on his wrists. "Well, for the moment, it looks like Mikhail and Tanya may be our best shot."

Frowning, Katya lowered her head. She'd been hoping he wouldn't say that. Maybe they didn't have a chance without help from the remaining 44's, but she was still their older sister, and right now, she wanted them to get as far away from this mess as possible.

"This is it?" From his place behind an abandoned Honda, Alec frowned at the dilapidated structure. He certainly hadn't been expecting a Hilton, but still . . . "They're hiding out in _that_? You've got to be kidding me."

Jondy glared sideways at him and crouched down lower behind the car. "Well, the army of White's men standing around inside might be a clue-in to that fact, yes." She shook her head as she watched another shadow walk past a window. To her genetically enhanced vision, the dark interior was just as bright as noontime. She frowned. "I can't believe they seriously thought we wouldn't see them."

Alec continued to study the building. Beside the back door, a homeless man dozed against the wall, his head pillowed on one arm . . . and he'd bet every tip he made within the next week that the man wasn't really dozing . . . and that there was a transmitter in his sleeve. Several feet away, another homeless man dug in a trashcan, but he was missing the point. None of the "real" homeless residents of Seattle would be so picky about what they were eating. This man had already thrown out half of a hamburger and an uneaten apple . . . and he was ignoring the half-empty soda can sitting beside the trashcan. Come to think of it, he didn't even seem to notice any of the valuable recyclables that the littered the alleyway.

The space around the building was simply crawling with homeless people, but Alec knew better. He'd been trained to spot people in disguise, and as he studied a couple of homeless people camped out beside the building, it was obvious that they were all White's men in disguise. "So, how many are you thinking? Forty? Fifty?" He watched Jondy frown in the moonlight.

"At least." 

Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's way too many to constitute a party in my mind. There's only two of us, you know." He glanced down at his watch and turned to go. "Damn, look at the time. I think it's time for me to-"

He never took another step. Grabbing him by the arm, Jondy slammed him back against the car with all the force she could muster. "Don't even think about it," she said, sticking a finger in his face. The tone of voice she used was one that Sister Sophia had used on her many a time. Not surprisingly, it worked just as well on Alec as it had on her. He put his hands up in a sign of surrender.

"Hey, come on, you didn't seriously think I was just going to-"

"Yes."

"Alright, alright. So there's what . . . forty, fifty of them? And you and I against that? Come on, Jondy. There's only two of us."

The light shuffling on the cracked pavement was their only warning that they were no longer alone, and only their highly sensitive hearing gave them the split second warning to that fact. 

"Actually, make that four."

At the sound of footsteps, Sergei sprung from his place beside Katya and tried to look normal. Well, as normal as one can look when one's hands and feet are bound together so thoroughly, that is. So far, they had managed to get some of the knots out of the ropes around their wrists, but with the handcuffs still firmly in place, Sergei wasn't really sure how much good their efforts would do them. Ropes or no ropes, they still had no way of getting the handcuffs off.

The door opened, and White stepped into the room. Though Nikolai was not with him, he was still followed by six armed men. Max immediately perked up. "Look guys, room service is here."

"Good," Katya chimed in. "It took long enough. My steak had better not be overdone." She watched as White stepped forward. Surprisingly, he walked straight to her, completely ignoring Max and the room's other occupants. "Okay, so where's my dinner?" Cocking his head to the side, White stared down at her, a faint look of distaste covering his features as he studied her for a moment. "Fine then, but don't expect me to leave a tip." 

"I see that the attitude is genetic. I wonder what else is? What's in your DNA 44-01?"

"Awww. Isn't that sweet, Max?" She glanced towards her companion. "He called me by my first name."

"Actually, Ames, I'm kinda jealous. We used to have that kind of a relationship." White glanced in Max's direction momentarily but gave her no further acknowledgement.

"What did Voinovich do to your DNA?" he mused again.

"Oh, just mixed it up a little. You know, a snip here, a splice there, a little canine DNA in the mix. What's it to you?"

"You spent eight years at Manticore, but there are no records of any . . . interesting findings in your DNA . . . or did they just not keep that in your file?" Narrowing his eyes, he tilted his head in the other direction, as if analyzing her from a different angle might provide him with more information. When she didn't answer, he glanced towards Sergei. "Tell me, 44-01, where are the other two?"

"How the hell should I know? I'm their sister, not their babysitter."

"You expect me to believe that?" He leaned forward slightly. "Where are they?" he asked, raising his voice a notch and slowing his speech, putting emphasis on every word as if she was too stupid to understand him if he didn't simplify the question. 

"You ask too many questions. Besides, I already told you that I don't know. Didn't your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady?" From her right, she heard Max click her tongue. Turning her head she saw the disdain in the X5's eyes.

"Doubtful," Max mused. "They probably carved her up before you were an hour old, didn't they Ames?" For the first time, White turned his full attention in her direction. "Or did your father just throw her off a bridge somewhere?" Cocking her head to the side, Max returned his look of distaste and called him by the one name she knew would get to him. "Freak."

He moved fast, Katya realized, and unusually so. In fact, the sound of his hand against Max's cheek was already echoing off the walls before any of them saw it coming. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was a transgenic himself.

To her left, Zack leapt to his feet in defense of his sister and launched himself across the room at White, but his hands and feet were still bound, slowing his actions considerably. There were too many guns, Katya realized in that fraction of a second, and they were all trained on Zack. Using her lightening quick reflexes, she shifted her body sideways, throwing her feet into his path and tripping Zack before he had the chance to reach White. As he hit the floor several bullets cut the air where he had just stood. With one sharp hand signal, White stopped the firing, and from her place beneath Zack's body, Katya saw the angry expression on his face.

"Thank you, 599. Forensics has been wanting to take one of you apart alive for quite some time. So nice of you to volunteer." With that, White turned on his heel and left the room, his guards following behind like a flock of sheep.

Zack waited until the slamming of the door had stopped echoing against the bare walls, then turned his full attention to Max. "Are you okay?" he asked. Max merely nodded, trying to pretend that White's hand hadn't affected her, when in reality it had felt as if every tooth in her mouth had been knocked loose. With that reassurance, he turned his attention to the woman who was still lying halfway beneath him. "What the hell was that?" he asked angrily.

"You're welcome for saving your ass," Katya muttered as she struggled to pull her legs out from underneath of his body. Anger and jealously flowed through her veins. He had risked his own life by jumping to help Max, even though every gun in the room was trained on him. _Who am I fooling? _she asked herself sadly._ He put a gun to his own head to save Max. Why am I so surprised?_ It was time to stop lying to herself about that fact and accept the truth. 

"I could have taken him," Zack began, sounding more like an offended schoolboy than the leader of a group of highly trained soldiers.

Muttering a curse in Russian, Katya pushed him off of her, then wished briefly that she had thought of doing that a few nights ago. _I've been thinking about something . . . all day, in fact . . ._ God, but she'd been so stupid.

"And those guys with the guns? Were you going to take them, too?" Zack glared at her silently, but made no further response. He was angry, Katya realized, though whether it was aimed at her or at himself, she couldn't quite be sure. 

Pulling the rest of the way out from under him, she pushed herself into a sitting position and began to tug at the handcuffs on her wrists. Mikhail and Tanya were out there somewhere, and she had to get out, to warn them before it was too late. Suddenly her eyes fell on the broken mess of electronics at the bottom of the far wall. Max's phone might not help them to get in touch with anyone, but that didn't mean it was useless . . . a light smile crossed her face as the plan began to form.

"Hey, guys, I've got an idea."

Mikhail frowned out at the disguised guards stationed outside of his temporary home. One man was drinking from what looked like a dingy cup of coffee, but as his nose picked up the scent drifting in his direction, he knew that his suspicions were correct. He was using more than coffee to keep him warm tonight.

"So," Tanya said with a frown, "they've got Katya, Seryozha, Max, and Zack in there. Great." Her eyes scanned the building for a way to get in undetected. She found none. There was only one side of the building without guards peeking out of windows, and that was still guarded on the ground floor.

Jondy frowned. "They haven't taken anyone in or out of the building, so they're still inside."

"And being used as bait," Mikhail finished with a frown. "They're waiting for us to come back, probably harassing Katya about where we were." He shook his head. "Not that she knows anyway."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "Out on the town, huh? Chasing the honeys?" He elbowed Mikhail playfully. "Come on, you can tell me . . . " Tanya and Jondy glanced at each other for moment. In unison, they rolled their eyes.

"Actually, we went to a play." He chuckled to himself as he watched the smile slide off of Alec's face. "There's a troop of homeless Shakespearean actors that perform in the gymnasium of an old rec center out on Freemont. It's not like they make any money out of it, but every so often, they'll meet and put on a production of sorts. Tonight it was _Macbeth_."

Alec nodded. _What a loser . . . _"Sounds . . . nice . . ." _And pathetic . . ._ He watched as Mikhail frowned up at the building again and followed his eyes as they fell on the homeless man who stood by the back wall sipping from a cup of coffee. Suddenly, a smile lit the 44's face, and he turned to his sister.

"Tanya, I've got an idea."

"What?" She followed his gaze to the homeless man drinking coffee.

"What do you say we take a lesson from good old Will?" He raised an eyebrow as he began to repeat the words from memory . . . but then again, he knew most of Shakespeare's plays by heart. _"Let every soldier hew him down a bough, and bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow the numbers of our host, and make discovery err in report of us."_

Tanya stared at him a moment, trying to place the reference, then a smile broke out over her face. She chuckled lightly at the confusion registering on Alec's face, and watched as Jondy tried to place the quote herself. "Lead on, Malcolm," she told her brother with a chuckle. "Lead on."


	20. Birnam Wood

Chapter Twenty:

Birnam Wood

Mulholland glanced down into his coffee and frowned in thought. So what if they had four of the mutant freaks upstairs? Why on earth did his superiors honestly think that any of the others would try to break them out? This place was crawling with soldiers, and even mutant freaks wouldn't be so stupid as that. He took another sip from his mug and ran the descriptions through his head once more.

__

One male, blonde hair, brown eyes. One female, brown hair, brown eyes. Possibly a third transgenic, X5-494- 

He paused, his eyes catching sight of two trashcans by the corner of the building. He knew better, but he could almost swear that the damned things had moved several inches closer than they had been a moment before. Shaking his head, he glanced down into his coffee and wondered if he'd added a little more to his cup than he'd intended. _Oh well. What the hell . . . _Shrugging, he took another sip and snuggled deeper into the ratty blanket which he had wrapped about his shoulders. Slipping his free hand inside, he lay his hand on the gun hidden in his lap and gave it an affectionate pat.

Mulholland moved his gaze to the right and frowned at what he saw. The alleyway was littered with old newspapers and busted glass bottles. Here and there a stray animal sulked in the shadows trying not to be seen, and he shuddered as he watched a rat scurry across his line of vision to disappear behind a dumpster. He didn't want to think about all the vermin in that dumpster. Rats, probably some cockroaches, those nasty little bugs that rolled into balls when something touched them . . . He shuddered at the thought.

__

Dirt. Grime. Filth. It was everywhere, and he was pretending to be a part of it. The thought made him queasy. Right now, he wanted to be at home, curled up in his nice warm bed. Heck, he'd like to be at home sleeping one off because then, at least, it would have meant that he'd had an exciting night, rather than sitting around here in the cold waiting for a bunch of mutants that weren't going to show. Turning his attention back to the mug, he took another sip. At least he had something to keep him warm on this cold night. Maybe he should just . . . 

It was then that he heard it, the faint scratching sound coming from a pile of dirty cardboard boxes along the wall to his right. Swearing inwardly, he gripped the gun on his lap and prepared to fire through the blanket. Maybe he'd been wrong about the transgenics trying to break their friends out. They might just be dumber than he'd thought. 

His heartbeat hammered in his ears as he waited. Seconds seemed to drag out for minutes until a pale face appeared, a pale face followed by the rest of a girl. She was dressed in dirty clothes, her feet bare, and her blonde hair damp and stringy. He studied her for a moment before relaxing. She didn't match any of the descriptions he'd been given, and she looked like hell. He shook his head. Leave it to him to find the _real_ homeless girl in this alley. He watched as she raised her pleading blue eyes towards the mug in his hands.

"Beat it! Scram! This is my corner!" he yelled. He watched in satisfaction as she backed away warily. He didn't want her anywhere near him. God only knew what kind of diseases she carried. "Get the hell out of here," he yelled again when she paused. With a look of terror on her face, she bolted back down the alley. 

"Good riddance," he muttered as he raised the mug to his lips again, but halfway through the sip, he caught sight of the trashcans again. This time they looked to be about a foot closer. Pulling the mug away from his lips, he stared down at its contents and swirled the dark liquid lightly. Yes, he'd definitely added too much, and now he was seeing things. He turned to stare at the trashcans, which seemed to have moved still closer. They were now no more than five feet to his left. With his eyes widening, he shifted the mug to his right hand and poured its contents out into the dirt at the base of the building. "There, now maybe I'll stop seeing . . . what the hell?" 

Then there was the sound of a muffled _clang_, and everything went dark.

Jondy emerged from the alley, her wet hair pulled back into a ponytail, and knelt down to retie her shoelaces. "Interesting tactic," she remarked to Mikhail as she looked up. He shrugged.

"Well, it worked. We didn't want him going for his radio, and he was just tipsy enough to think-" He was cut short by a burst of static from the radio in question, which was hidden in the folds of the unconscious man's blanket.

"Mulholland, report! What's going on down there?" barked an annoyed voice. Jondy looked at Tanya, Tanya glanced warily at her brother, and Mikhail merely picked up the radio.

"Nothing, sir," he answered in a relatively convincing mimicry of Mulholland's voice. "Just a couple stray cats fighting over garbage."

"You sure?" questioned the voice.

"Yes, sir, positive."

"Very well. Contact me if you see anything suspicious."

"Yes, sir," Mikhail replied and dropped the radio back onto the man's blanket. That done, he glanced up at the side of the building. "So, how are we getting into this place?"

"This is the least guarded side," Alec said as he emerged from the alley, "but it's also the side without a door." Jondy frowned up at the building, her eyes following a drain spout up to where it passed beside a window on the fourth floor. Stepping forward, she gave it a tug. It seemed to be anchored pretty firmly, and if they were careful, it should serve the purpose. 

Turning to her companions, she nodded towards the drain spout. "Going up?"

Setting her jaw in determination, Max struggled with the wires she held in her bound hands. It was all she could do not to let out a sigh of relief when the soft click reached her ears. _One set of handcuffs down, seven to go_. She watched as Zack pulled the cuffs from his wrists and took the bent wires from her hands to return the favor. From across the room, another click reached her ears, and she turned to see that Sergei's hands were free as well. _Six to go . . . _Frowning, she glanced across the room to the remnants of Logan's phone, minus a few wires, and chuckled to herself. "I guess what they say is true," she told her brother. "It's always a good idea to carry a cellular phone with you, just in case of an emergency."

Donaldson never saw it coming. Then again, neither did Simpson. One moment they were walking past the window, playing good little soldiers and guarding a hallway near the room where the transgenics were being held, and the next moment there was a blur as _something_, they didn't have time to determine what, seemed to fly in the window at them, and then they were out cold.

Jondy shook her head as she gazed down at the two men. "Such a pity. Perez had better guards than this." 

Alec frowned at her. "Who?" She shook her head as they crept down the hallway to the end of the building. At the far wall, the hallway bent at a ninety-degree angle and continued to run its course along the outer wall of the building.

"Nevermind," she mouthed to him as Tanya peeked cautiously around the corner. About forty feet down the hallway, six armed guards stood outside of a doorway. Pulling her head back around the corner, Tanya held up six fingers. Three heads nodded in understanding. Touching his sister's shoulder, Mikhail began to ramble off a series of gestures, some sort of hand signals that the X5's didn't understand. They watched as Tanya responded with more signals, then the two 44's shared a nod of agreement. Jondy and Alec looked at each other and shrugged, then nearly yelped as Tanya grabbed them both by an arm and dragged them another ten feet back down the hallway through which they'd just come. Turning, she gave them one signal, one they both understood, and they nodded in understanding as Mikhail stepped out into the open.

"Hey, guys. Do you know where the vending machines are? I have this bizarre craving for a Hershey bar." It took a second for the guards to register the presence of an intruder, but by then he had already disappeared behind a corner. Four left their positions and headed off in pursuit, while one of the remaining guards reached for the radio at his waist.

Unfortunately, as the four guards rounded the corner, they found themselves in the middle of an ambush, and in this case, four against four was _not_ a fair fight. Three quick punches and a well-aimed kick and all were out for the count. Alec and Mikhail made short work of removing their weapons and passed out the spoils.

Inside the room, Sergei finished removing the cuffs around his ankles, and glanced up. Everyone was free. He shifted his gaze to the door, where Katya and Zack were very slowly and very quietly taking apart the hinges. Finishing her task, Katya turned and nodded to her brother. Sergei moved into position along the wall beside the door and nodded to Max.

"Hey guys," Max whined. "I've got to go to the bathroom!"

"Me too," Katya chimed in.

Outside the door, the guard lowered his radio. "Shut up in there!"

"Oh, come on!"

Turning in annoyance, the guard began to pound on the door with his fist. _Thump. _"I said shut up in there!" _Thump. _"And I mean it!" _Thump._ "And I don't want to hear any more from any of you!" _Thu-_

As his fist descended on the door for the last time, it gave way, pushing inward at the hinges. There was a brief moment as surprise registered on his face before Katya's fist made contact with his chin, and then he was out cold. The other guard drew his gun and turned towards him, but Zack sent him sailing against the wall before he had a chance to fire. He slid downward to the floor in a motionless heap.

Zack peeked outside the door. "I thought you said you smelled at least six," he told Katya. She shrugged as she watched him strip the weapons from the unconscious men.

"There were. Maybe _they_ went to the bathroom. How should I know?" Shaking her head, she snuck down the hallway, then paused midstep and sniffed the air. "Misha?" she whispered. Her brother stuck his head out from around the corner and relaxed visibly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," he responded. Walking forward, she smacked him on the shoulder.

"You're going to get yourself caught!"

"I'm not the one who was locked in a room." He jerked his head back the way he'd come. "Let's-"

"Not this way," Tanya said as she came running around the corner, Alec and Jondy on her heels. "Reinforcements are coming this way, so we're going that way." She pointed down the hallway and grabbed Mikhail by the arm. The others followed.

They met only six guards on their way to the main room of the warehouse, and since there were eight of them, they didn't have much trouble getting through. Most of the guards never even knew what hit them. "What now?" Tanya asked as she gazed down over the balcony at the floor below. There were guards stationed at both ends. 

"We split," Zack answered, falling back into his role as CO. He grabbed Max by the arm and motioned Jondy and Sergei to follow. Alec, Tanya, Katya, and Mikhail went in the opposite direction.

Taking down the guards stationed at the bottoms of both staircases, they met in the center of the floor below. Katya made a move for the door. "Alright. Let's get the hell out of here." She stopped cold in her tracks as a familiar scent hit her nostrils. A frown slid over her face. "Great. Just great."

"Leaving so soon?" asked a familiar voice. Katya groaned inwardly as White stepped out of the shadows. "You're not going anywhere." Reaching down to his waist, he drew his gun.

Katya took a few steps forward, motioning the others to stay back. She tilted her head to one side and placed a hand on one hip. "And who's gonna stop me? You and what army?" _Two seconds, _she thought as she made her move. _Two seconds and we'll all be out of here._ Unfortunately, Katya didn't know that it wouldn't be quite so easy as that.

Surprise registered on her features as her spinning kick failed to connect with the gun in White's hand, and suddenly Katya found herself flat on the floor staring up at the ceiling, the air knocked momentarily from her lungs. _What the hell? He shouldn't be able to move that fast . . . he shouldn't be that strong . . . _

Taking a quick breath, she flipped back onto her feet and watched as White tossed the gun aside. Lifting her hands into a fighting stance, they circled each other for a moment before she made her next move. He blocked a series of punches aimed for his head and landed one of his own on her right temple. Crouching down he used a move she'd often used herself and swept her feet right out from under her.

"What the hell are you?" she asked as she flipped and regained her balance.

"I am the future," he responded ominously.

"You know Ames," Max commented from the sidelines, "you really need a new line. That one's getting old," but White paid no attention to her. He also failed to notice as Sergei disappeared up the stairway to his right.

Katya made another kick, and though he blocked it from hitting his face, she did force him to take a stumbling step backwards. "You're stronger than the X-series," he commented as they circled.

In spite of herself, Katya grinned. "Cheap American wannabes," she said with a smile a fraction of a second before aiming a fist towards his gut. He blocked her punch and sent her staggering back several paces, but she stayed on her feet. 

No one had ever given her this much trouble during a fight, and to be honest, she didn't like it. Faking a kick to his stomach, Katya diverted the course of her foot halfway through the spin and landed a solid kick to the side of his head. White dropped, but only for a beat. Within a second he was back on his feet and scoring a direct hit to her chin. 

"Do you think that hurt?" he taunted. "Pain is a figment of the imagination." Katya frowned. 

"Weirdo . . . " she muttered to herself, and then her peripheral vision picked up a movement on the balcony above. _Alright already. Enough is enough . . ._

"You know, men are all the same. If they aren't enjoying a bout of violence, they're thinking with their . . . well, you know . . . " Raising an eyebrow, she started a spinning kick . . . and White fell for it. Pain or no pain, there were still things that _any_ man would rather not risk damaging, so when Katya spun, he tried to block her kick, but he blocked too low. Scoring a direct hit to his chest, Katya knocked him back several paces and onto his back.

And suddenly it was as if the ceiling was caving in on him. For all his speed and strength, White didn't have time to react . . . and then everything went black.

Sergei jumped down from the balcony and glanced over at the pile of packing crates which he'd just pushed down over the balcony's edge and on top of White. He watched as Katya leaned over to retrieve White's gun, and moved his nervous eyes back to the pile of crates. 

"Thanks, little brother," she said. "Now let's get out of here before he comes to."

In the far corner, Mikhail lifted a radio to his lips and spoke in a shockingly good impression of White. "All units to the south entrance. Subjects have been spotted. Repeat. All units to the south entrance. Subjects have been spotted." He smiled and dropped the radio as the sounds of shuffling feet rung in the air. "Okay, front door's clear. Let's waltz on out." Sighing in relief, they took a step towards the door-

"Freaks!" screamed a voice from the shadows. "Freaks! Abominations! Monsters!" Katya spun around, searching the room in the faint moonlight for the voice's source, but the words seemed to echo in the old warehouse, and she couldn't pinpoint their origin. "Manticore. Manticore did this. All of this!" The voice continued to echo. It bounced off the walls, up to the ceiling, and back down again. Seven more sets of eyes joined in the search. "If it hadn't been for the X5's they wouldn't have made any of you! You monsters! This is all your fault!" Through the shadows, Max's eyes fell on Nikolai at the exact moment Katya's did, and they both saw the gun he clutched in his hand. He was pointing it straight at the chest of the closest X5, and that happened to be Zack.

"Look out!" Max shouted as she started towards her brother, and suddenly everything happened at once.

Two guns went off simultaneously, as Max dived to push Zack out of the line of fire. Zack hit the ground with a muffled groan. Max may have been smaller than he was, but he had to admit that she could pack a punch when she wanted to. 

The gun dropped from Nikolai's hand and clattered down from the balcony and onto the floor below, firing harmlessly into a wall as it hit. Clutching his hand to his chest, Nikolai glanced down at the red stain spreading across his shirtfront, then lifted his eyes to where Katya stood, White's gun still in her hand, ready to fire again if needed. "You," he rasped at her, then his body went limp, and he fell face first over the side of the balcony like a one-armed rag doll. His body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and he moved no more. 

"Everybody okay?" Katya asked, as she lowered the gun._ Oh please, God, let him be okay . . . _

"Yeah," Zack muttered. "One-armed guy had lousy aim." Katya managed to hold in her sigh of relief.

Alec prodded Nikolai's dead body with his foot. He whistled and shook his head. "Dead as a doornail." Katya walked over and glanced down at him sadly. All of her happy childhood memories, all of the stories he'd told them as they drifted off to sleep, had been fairytales, stories too good to be true. In the end, he'd been a fairytale too.

__

Funny, she thought as she gazed down at his battered and broken body, his missing arm, his scarred and ugly face. _All this time he's been blaming us for being freaks, when in reality, he turned himself into one._ But still, she did pity him. He couldn't help being crazy. Taking one last look she turned to the others.

"Well, we'd better get out of here before White wakes u-"

"Shit. Oh shit." It was Zack's voice that spoke as he pulled himself out from under Max's motionless body. 

"Oh God," Jondy said as she rolled her sister over, and as the moonlight shone in through the windows, they all saw it, the ugly red stain that was creeping across the shoulder of Max's shirt.

"Shit," Katya heard Alec mutter, and she echoed the sentiment in her native tongue.


	21. Lies Remembered

Chapter Twenty-One:

Lies Remembered 

Max opened her eyes to find herself lying on a bare and somewhat dusty hardwood floor, a floor that was slightly splintered in places and desperately in need of a polish. Someone's jacket was rolled up and propped beneath her head, a makeshift pillow for her makeshift sick bed. Several white sheets, now moth-eaten and stained, lay strewn about the far corners of the room. Once used as dust covers, they were now useless in the darkness of the empty apartment, their purpose gone since the day soon after the Pulse when some long-forgotten someone had broken in and stolen all of the furniture.

Turning her head slightly, Max came to discover that there was a throbbing pain in her right shoulder, a pain that matched the pounding in her head. She could faintly remember the outline of the Russian traitor, Nikolai, emerging from the shadows, his gun aimed straight at Zack. She'd reacted on instinct, jumping from her spot to push Zack out of the way. _So I guess he missed Zack,_ she mused as she glanced down towards her injured shoulder. _I guess he didn't miss me._

In the faint light of the room, a shadow moved, blocking the shafts of moonlight that shone in coyly through the dirty window. She studied it out of the corner of her eye, noting its familiar shape, but she didn't lift her head. It sat down beside her, using one hand to check her pulse. The other rested gently on her forehead.

"So, baby sister, I see that you're still with us." Jondy smiled timidly, relieved to see that Max was conscious. "I was starting to think you were going to be lazy and sleep in," she joked, but she did a poor job of hiding the tremor of worry in her voice. "How are you feeling?"

__

Always mothering everybody and everything, Max thought to herself. That was Jondy. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to sit up and was surprised to discover that it was easier than she'd expected, but the moment she was upright, the room began to spin in annoying little circles. "Like I got ran over by a truck," she groaned, waiting for the walls to stop dancing. She squeezed her eyes shut to ward away the queasiness their unnatural motion caused. After a moment, she risked a glance around the room and frowned. "Where are we anyway?"

"An abandoned apartment building about a two clicks from the warehouse," Katya answered from the doorway. Pushing herself up from the doorframe against which she'd been leaning, she walked forward to lay a hand on Max's forehead in the exact spot which Jondy's had just left, then she leaned over to check the rudimentary bandage. She frowned. "I dug the bullet out. It missed everything important." She gave Max a weak but reassuring smile and handed her a bottle of water. Frowning inwardly, she tried to ignore the sound of Zack's worried footsteps falling rhythmically on the old floor as he paced outside the door. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd pace for her if her and Max's situations were reversed. Shaking her head, she returned her attention to Max as she finished drinking. 

"It wasn't too deep. Not much damage, but a lot of blood. I patched you up as best I could, but we didn't want to move you any more than necessary until you came to." She frowned as she glanced back down at the dressing on the wound. "But what little bandages we managed to make from the stuff we found back in the warehouse won't keep long, and I'm not so sure I want to stay here any longer than necessary." She frowned in thought. "Do you think you're okay to walk if someone helps you?" She hated to move Max when she was this weak, but she had to give Max credit as she trudged to her feet, wobbled slightly, but grabbed the wall and remained upright. Jondy frowned at Katya, who merely smiled and shook her head. "What do you know," she teased. "You American models are tougher than I thought."

Max took a step forward and found that even though she was weak, it was becoming easier for her to balance herself. "Yeah, better than the cheap foreign imitations," but the last word came out in a painful groan as she accidentally brushed her shoulder against the wall. Jondy grabbed her other arm for support as they made their way towards the door.

"Logan's got some medical supplies stashed at his place, but we need to get Max home," Jondy said as she looped Max's left arm around her shoulders. "And we've got to get the rest of you out of here before daylight. I'm sure White's going to be combing the area."

"Maybe we should leave him my address," Max said with mock concern, "just so he'll know where to send the "Get Well" card. And flowers. I'm sure he'd send me flowers, maybe even some of those nice balloons . . . " Jondy chuckled as several heads poked in the doorway from the hallway outside. There were several sighs of relief.

"You okay, Maxie?"

"I'm fine Alec, but don't do anything stupid. I'm not exactly up to kicking your ass right now."

"That's okay. Jondy's already warned me that she'll do it for you." He chuckled as the rest of the 44's expressed their concern for Max, but Zack merely stood a few feet away, gazing at her with a strange mix of worry and longing. Katya looked away.

"Okay, everybody," Katya began, "Max needs to get home, and Jondy needs to go to Logan's to get medical supplies." She missed the momentary looks of worry that crossed the faces of three X5's at the mention of Logan's name, but the fourth X5 took no notice, so they relaxed. "The rest of us need to go to ground." 

Jondy looked up from her place at Max's side. "I know where the supplies are, so I'll go get them. Max left her motorcycle there, so I'll just ride it back and cut time." She glanced at Alec. "You remember where the safe house is? The one on Euclid?" She carefully tiptoed around the issue that it was one Logan used often. Zack remembering things he shouldn't remember was the last thing they needed right now. Alec cocked his head to the side and blinked at her.

"Safe house on Euclid?" He wrinkled his brow in thought. It didn't seem to be ringing any bells.

"The one you tried to take the stripper to," Max prodded. A light lit in Alec's eyes. 

"Oh, _that_ safe house on Euclid."

"Right, take Zack and the others there. We'll call you on your cell and keep you posted." She turned to Katya. "So, think you can get Max back to her apartment?"

Max leaned against the old car as she watched Katya maneuver a bent piece of old wire down along the outside of the driver's side window. Her efforts were rewarded by the sound of a soft "click," but Max paid little attention. Her thoughts were elsewhere._ I wonder what's going on between her and Zack anyway?_ She almost found herself voicing the thought aloud as Katya helped her into the passenger's seat, but she bit her tongue. It wasn't her style to just blurt out that sort of question . . . of course, if Jondy were here, her sister would have asked five minutes ago. She chuckled at the thought.

"Drive three blocks down and take a right," Max directed after Katya had hot-wired the old Chevy and began to pull out onto the street. The silence hung heavily in the car, broken only by a word or two from Max as she gave Katya directions to her apartment. It was Katya who broke the silence moments later.

"Look," she began hesitantly, "I just want to say . . . thanks . . . for trying to warn us. I know you didn't have to."

Max shrugged, well, tried to anyway. It turned out to be a lopsided maneuver since her right shoulder didn't move. "Sure I did. I couldn't exactly let White muscle his way in there and put you in a cage."

"How did you know, anyway?"

"Let's just say I have some friends in high places." Katya seemed to ponder this for a moment, then let it drop. "Anyway, you guys are okay, I guess, even if you are the cheap foreign imitations." A light smile broke over Max's lips, and Katya chuckled. "And you didn't try to shoot at me, which is definitely a plus."

Katya pulled her eyes from the road for just an instant to flick a curious glance in Max's direction.

"Last time I ran into another version of me, she ended up shooting me in the heart." Max risked a glance down to her bandaged shoulder. "Funny, every time I run into someone with some of my DNA, I end up with a bullet hole somewhere." She sobered. "It was the night we tried to take down Manticore. I ran into an X7 in the forest, and she just shot me right there."

"Oh. That was when Zack . . . " Katya trailed off, trying not to finish. Max glanced across the car as the emotions played across Katya's face. She watched as the stoplights and neon signs shone in through the windows, bringing illumination to her expression from the world outside. Whether or not she'd asked her question before didn't matter now because the answer was written on Katya's face just as clear as day.

"Yeah," Max frowned lightly. "But I guess it was my fault, really. Seeing the little bitch threw me off-guard. It was like looking in a mirror or something. I didn't expect someone to pop around the corner with my face and shoot me."

Katya frowned in thought and breathed an inward sigh of relief that Max wasn't pursuing the motivations for Zack's actions that night. She shrugged. "Maybe that's why Doctor changed our appearances slightly, so that we wouldn't freak out if we met up with each other in battle."

"Makes sense," Max said, nodding her head as silence once again descended upon the car. But it didn't make sense, not anymore. Whatever they had been designed to do didn't matter now. X5's and 44's would never meet on opposite ends of a battlefield. Right now they were all running from the same people.

"Well," Katya began again, seeming uneasy with the silence, "you certainly didn't start off the evening expecting to have a hole in your shoulder and your clone giving you a lift home in a stolen car."

"Not exactly. Logan and I had . . . plans . . . Alec said he called him to let him know I'd be okay."

"Yeah, he sounded pretty worried. I think he just wanted to see you."

"We've been through a lot. Tonight was supposed to be a nice, quiet evening, just the two of us." She chuckled. "See how that turned out." Lord but she missed Logan. She wished Katya would drive a little faster.

Katya hesitated a moment, her eyes focusing on the road ahead as the rain began to fall. She made a great show of turning on the windshield wipers and looking about the rainy streets. It wasn't nearly so hard to see as she made it out to be. "You really love him, don't you?" The question seemed to break from Katya's lips of its own accord, but even Max couldn't miss the real question that lay behind her words. _You don't love Zack, do you?_

"Yeah," she admitted. "I do. We've been through a lot, and things have been pretty messed up at times, but it's been worth it." She paused, trying to find the right response. "Zack's been through a lot, too."

Katya's only response was silence, so Max pressed on.

"He's kind of mixed up right now," she added, her eyes analyzing the play of emotions on Katya's face. "He just needs time to figure everything out." When she was again greeted by silence, she knew that she had her answer. "So," Max finally said as they pulled up in front of the "abandoned" apartment building that served as home, "there is something between the two of you, huh?"

Zack stared out the window as the rain began to fall outside. At least here, inside this old apartment on a hidden corner in the shadows of Euclid, it was dry. Maybe it wasn't a luxury hotel, but there were several mattresses on the floor and some cans of food in the cupboard. Still, he felt guilty. He shouldn't be hiding out here. He should be out helping Max and Katya.

To be honest, he didn't know which of them worried him the most.

Max was the youngest. It was his job to protect her. It had been all of their jobs back at Manticore, and she still needed him. And then there was Katya. She inspired something in him that he didn't understand, some need to watch over her, though he wasn't so sure that she really needed him to. _But why is that?_ he asked himself. _Katya's younger than Max. _Who was there to protect her? _No one,_ came the answer. Katya didn't need anyone to look out for her. She was capable of taking care of herself. She was the CO of her own little unit, much like himself, and she didn't take orders from anyone. He smiled lightly at the thought. 

God, but she was really something. When Nikolai had threatened them all, she hadn't backed down. She'd just gotten really, really mad, and those green eyes danced when she was angry. It was a beautiful sight to see. She'd buried her own feelings of hurt, of betrayal, and fought like she had to, but he'd seen the pain in her eyes, and it had made a piece of him ache as well. 

And, from that thought, something strange rose to the surface, caught in his mind and wouldn't let go . . . 

_Betrayal. _He'd been betrayed before. He . . . and Max . . . by someone. The sudden realization left him feeling as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. He took a deep breath and steadied himself against the wall with one hand, his brow knit in thought. It was important, desperately important, and he had to remember. Perhaps they were still in danger.

"Don't worry," Tanya told him from her place in a chair nearby. Lowering the magazine she was reading, she gave him a reassuring smile. "She said she'd call when they got back to Max's apartment, and I'm sure she will as soon as they get there." But Zack wasn't listening to her words. Something else was catching in his mind, a strange sense of déjà vu as he watched Tanya glance up at him from behind a magazine.

Her face wasn't the same as Max's . . . or Katya's, but suddenly he remembered. He'd seen Max that day as Buddy had wheeled him out of the hospital. She'd sat right there in that chair and lied to his face, told him that they were strangers. _Why? Why did she lie to me?_ His mind searched franticly for the answer.

"And Jondy's going to Logan's apartment for some bandages, so even if there aren't enough supplies at Max's, Jondy will bring some pretty soon."

__

Logan . . . he had to get out of the room. The air was stifling, almost solid as he tried to force it into his lungs. "I'm going to go check this place over for anything useful. Maybe there are some extra supplies around here. Maybe some blankets, some more food." Tanya merely nodded as he left the apartment.

He didn't trust Logan, he realized as he closed the apartment door behind him and made his way down the hallway. He didn't know why, but suddenly it was very imperative that he know why. Max didn't understand, didn't know what a danger he was to them because . . . because . . . 

Because he had sabotaged the mission.

It came to him from nowhere all at once. Suddenly he remembered everything. Logan was Eyes Only. Logan had been the reason the mission had gone sideways that night. He was a turncoat. A traitor. And he had stolen Max from him.

Turning, he let out a roar of rage and shoved his fist through the nearest wall. Max had stopped him from killing him the last time, and she had lied to him about it, but it wasn't her fault. It couldn't be her fault. He had tricked her into it; Logan had made her lie.

And now, Zack decided as he trudged down the hallway towards the door to the old building, now Logan would pay.


	22. Truths Revealed

Chapter Twenty-Two:

  


Truths Revealed

  
  


"Damn, boo. You keep comin' home with bullet holes, and Original Cindy's gonna have to start lockin' yo' ass up at night so you can't leave." 

Her words were light, but the worry shone in her eyes as Original Cindy watched the strange woman help Max into the apartment. She should be used to Max coming home with all manner of injuries, she reflected, but genetically engineered killing machine or not, she still worried about her friend. Frowning, she stepped back to let the two women enter the apartment. 

Though Max was moving on her own two feet, she was leaning heavily on her companion for support, and Original Cindy frowned slightly at the sickly pallor of her complexion and the weariness in her eyes as the woman helped her across to the sofa. Hurrying across the room in front of them, she rearranged the pillows to make a space for Max, then reached up to help her seat herself without bumping her injured shoulder. After Max was settled comfortably on the sofa, the woman lifted her face into the light and scanned the room around her, her eyes measuring every inch of the apartment, committing every detail to memory. Original Cindy felt the breath catch in her throat. 

She'd been forewarned by Logan about Katya's resemblance to her roommate, and she'd tried to prepare herself mentally. She'd expected a perfect clone, a complete and identical copy, but it was the differences in the two women that made their similarities so eerie. Before her stood a woman with Max's face, the same cheekbones, the same lips, the same jawline, even the shape of their eyes were the same, but this woman's hair was a shade of light brown, her eyes a piercing green, and her complexion a shade lighter than Max's. It was like looking at a coloring book page colored by two different children. The picture was still the same, but the colors were all different. Mentally shaking herself, Original Cindy pulled herself from her momentary stupor. Clones, transgenics, and genetically engineered visitors had become an almost everyday occurrence for her lately, so this really wasn't anything out of the ordinary. 

"So, you must be my girl's Russian cousin." She offered her hand and a smile in welcome. "Original Cindy." 

"Yekaterina Voinovich," the woman said as she accepted the offered hand. She seemed to analyze Original Cindy for several heartbeats, much as she had studied the room a moment before, but when she returned her smile several seconds later, it was warm and friendly. "But everybody calls me Katya." 

"OC, I thought you'd still be at Crash . . . " From her place on the sofa, Max paused to raise an eyebrow suggestively, "or . . . not . . . " 

"Well, things didn't work out quite so well for Original Cindy with that fine little French sista', and when Sketchy started havin' more luck with the ladies than Original Cindy was, I figured it was time to call it a night and head home." She watched as Max's eyes fell on Logan, who had just emerged from the bathroom. 

"Hey." He seemed nervous, a little ill at ease, but Original Cindy could understand that, considering the circumstances. She excused herself to get Max a glass of water. 

"Hey yourself." Max returned his gaze and offered him a smile as he crossed the room to her side. _God, but he looks good,_ she thought, then laughed at herself. It had only been a few hours since she'd seen him, but it had felt like years. She watched as he reached down to take her hand. To her left, Katya removed her jacket and prepared to check the bandages around Max's shoulder, but Max was oblivious to the actions of her Russian counterpart. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Logan. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he massaged the back of her hand with his thumb. 

"Okay, I guess, considering." She swallowed. Gunshot wound or no gunshot wound, the pressure of his thumb on her hand was still doing alarming things to her nerve-endings. "I think I'll live," she joked lightly, "but I might take a day or two to get back to my old self." 

"And no leaping tall buildings in a single bound for at least a week." He reached up with his other hand to brush his thumb across her cheek, a light smile touching his lips. 

"A whole week? Come on, doc, three days tops." 

"We'll have to negotiate when you feel up to it, okay?" he teased. 

Katya was trying her best to ignore the touching scene going on beside her. It was obvious how much they cared about each other, but all she could think of was a set of blue eyes smiling down into her own in much the same way Logan was looking at Max now, back to that day in the park before everything had gotten so terribly complicated. _Zack._

She'd been taken off guard by Max's question out at the car, and she hadn't known how to respond. In the end, she'd mumbled a quick "it's not what you think" as she'd helped Max inside the building, then had excused herself for five minutes to move the car down the street a few blocks, just in case anyone connected its disappearance to their escape. When she'd returned to help Max up to her apartment, she hadn't volunteered any further information, and Max hadn't asked. She wondered just what Max thought. No, there was no sense in focusing on things that just couldn't be . . . Taking a deep breath, she tried to return her attention to the task at hand. 

"Do you have an old t-shirt around? Maybe some old towels? I'd hate to have you bleed on something you'd like to keep, but this dressing isn't going to wait until Jondy gets back from your apartment." Without a word, Original Cindy disappeared into what Katya guessed was a bedroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the smile slide off of Logan's face as she pulled Max's jacket aside, exposing the bloody bandage to his sight. The teasing light faded from his eyes, leaving a strange sort of worried darkness in its wake. His anxious expression returned to Max's face. 

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Frowning slightly, he smoothed a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear. 

"Yeah." Max tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I've had _way_ worse than this, right?" With a sort of uneasy smile, Logan's hand left her face and reached down to cover their joined hands, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Beside them, Katya was trying to remember her own rules, trying to remember why love wasn't an option for her, but the two of them weren't helping, and her mind was screaming at her that if it was possible for Max, then why wasn't it possible for her? Logan knew what she was, and he knew the dangers associated with being with her. If someone was willing to take that on . . . 

Sighing, she shook her head. She didn't need to think about that now. She didn't need to think about that ever.   
  
  


Katya was almost finished fixing Max's bandage when the phone rang. Frowning, Max glanced over at the clock. They'd already called to check in, but who else would be calling at this insanely late, or rather insanely early, hour? Since Max was closest, she reached over to answer it. Milly, who had been napping on her lap, opened one eye and glared up at the phone in annoyance. "Hello?" 

"He's gone, Max, and we don't know where he went to." Max didn't have to ask who the 'he' in question was. Ignoring Katya's protests as she attempted to secure the bandage, she sat upright on the sofa so quickly that Milly ended up in an ungraceful, and rather annoyed, heap of black fur on the floor. Rising on four delicate paws, she lifted her nose, flicked the tip of her tail, and stalked off towards the kitchen counter to flirt with the only male in the room. 

"How long has he been gone?" 

With that phrase, every eye in the room turned to Max. Katya stopped, letting the bandage drop. At the kitchen sink, Original Cindy paused in the middle of making tea and turned to listen in to the one side of the conversation she could hear. Logan looked up from his place on a stool, his eyes widening a few notches. 

"So he was gone before we called? Why didn't you say something?" Max sighed audibly, letting her shoulders drop as she did so, and wincing when she realized her mistake in allowing that motion. Across the room, Milly tapped Logan's foot with her paw in an unsuccessful attempt to get his attention. 

"So he didn't seem upset when he left . . . what do you mean 'distant?'" Max swallowed nervously, taking another deep breath. "So are you sure he--what? He punched a hole in the wall?" Milly glared at Max, then up at Logan who was literally on the edge of his seat. With a feline 'humph' she turned and walked away, her tail sticking straight up in the air. She seemed to have decided that humans were a waste of her valuable time. 

"Well, he doesn't know Logan's here. See if someone can track him. He'll head over to Logan's apartment first, so that should buy us some time. I'm going to call over and warn Jondy that he's on his way." With that she disconnected and hit the speed-dial connection for Logan's phone, then sat for several seconds with an agonized expression on her face as she listened to it ring. 

"Jondy, if you're there, pick up. Jondy?" But there was nothing, only the silence of the recording answering machine. She slammed the phone down in frustration. "No answer at your place." Logan swallowed. 

"Think he's already been there?" 

"Doubtful, he probably hasn't had time-" At that moment, Max's eyes fell on Katya's face, but the confused expression there was already giving way to a dawning understanding. She narrowed her green eyes and studied Logan's face, almost as if seeing it again for the first time. 

"Why would Zack be going to Logan's apartment if he was supposed to kill Eyes Only?" But Max could tell that Katya had already answered that question for herself. When no one answered, she watched Katya lift one corner of her mouth in a sort of bitter amusement. 

"Let me guess, he wouldn't find Eyes Only there anyway, right? Because Eyes Only is sitting right here in his girlfriend's apartment wondering how he's going to get out of this one."   
  
  


The streets were dark, the sidewalks dirty, but that didn't deter Zack. He didn't care about the dirt or the darkness. He wasn't here for the scenery. He was on a mission, a mission with only one objective: to kill Eyes Only. 

Through the darkness, his footsteps traced the way along once-familiar streets to Logan's penthouse. He remembered taking this route before, many times, in fact. He'd come this way after finding Max's face on a wanted poster. He'd walked along this street the night of their ill-fated attempt at rescuing Tinga. His fist clenched in anger at the memory of what he had found when he'd reached Logan's that night. And lastly, he remembered leaving the Steelheads' hideout and coming down this sidewalk through the dark, a gun in his hand, and a purpose to his stride. 

Only this time it would end differently. 

In his mind, he composed different scenarios. What if Logan was in the kitchen? In the hallway? In his office? What was the best way to approach him in any of those rooms without giving him any warning until it was too late? 

No, this time Max wouldn't try to stop him, but Jondy . . . what about Jondy? Hadn't she come to get bandages for Max? Did he have Jondy brainwashed too? Would she try to save him? 

Something wasn't right. Something didn't add up. Zack stopped in his tracks, paying no attention to fact that he was standing in the center of an intersection. Jondy had gone to Logan's apartment to pick up bandages, but why would Jondy go there if Logan was already there? Why couldn't Logan just bring the bandages to Max? The answer came a heartbeat later. Logan couldn't bring the bandages because Logan wasn't there. But if Logan wasn't there, then where could he be? 

Stepping to the opposite sidewalk, he paused to study the options. Here a right turn would take him to Fogle Towers, but a left turn would take him to . . . 

Max's. Of course. Where else would the traitor be? 

With a dark smile, Zack turned left and made his way down the street towards Max's apartment.   
  
  


"God, but you people are stupid." Katya stood in the middle of the room, her arms crossed in front of her as she shook her head in disbelief. Her gaze moved from Logan, to Max, and then back to Logan again. "I can understand the need for secrecy here, but it's not worth digging your own grave, you know." 

"I don't exactly go around telling everyone I meet that I'm really an underground cyberjournalist," Logan muttered bitterly as he finished securing the loose end of Max's bandage. 

"What's the matter? Afraid I was going to turn you over to the authorities?" Katya rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner and sighed, then raised her gaze to the ceiling. "Americans," she muttered before lowering her eyes again. "Why didn't you bother to give me the whole story the first time around, huh?" 

Logan turned his head to glare at her. "It didn't seem necessary-" 

_"It didn't seem necessary?"_ Again she rolled her eyes skyward. "Look, he was staying with us. If you'd have bothered to fill us in on the identity of his target, it would have helped. We could have kept an eye on the both of you until the whole thing blew over." She sighed and shook her head. 

Anger wouldn't do her any good right now, she chastised herself, so she shrugged and shook it off. He was used to having Max and Alec around, and he hadn't wanted to admit that he needed a stranger's help. He'd only just met her and her siblings. He didn't know that they were trained bodyguards, the best in the business in fact, or that they would have been happy to help. Maybe the answer seemed obvious from her point of view, but putting herself in his shoes, she couldn't blame him for not trusting them. Under the circumstances she probably wouldn't have either. She sighed again and shook her head with resignation. 

"But I'm one to talk, right?" she said quietly, a touch of apology in her voice. "The only people outside of a DNA lab to ever know what I really am are sitting in this room." Sighing, she reached down for Max's coat and handed it to Logan. "Well, if there's a chance that he'll be stopping by, we'd better get the hell out of here, right?" 

They left Milly where she was, curled up asleep on Max's bed in protest of the human species. Zack's target was Logan, so he would leave the cat alone. As they made their way down the hallway with Katya in the lead and Logan and Original Cindy supporting Max, Katya gave herself a swift mental kick for moving the stolen car. Things would have been easier if she'd left it downstairs right outside the door, instead of moving it down a few blocks. Still, it was their best chance of escape. 

She paused a moment, allowing the others to catch up to her. She had an uneasy feeling about this whole mess, and she didn't like it at all. It was as if . . . she stiffened suddenly, jerking her head towards a broken window, her eyes widening in caution. 

"So," Original Cindy asked Max, "how long you think it'll take your boy to get here?" But Max didn't answer. She was too busy watching Katya's reactions. She seemed nervous, uneasy, and it wasn't doing anything to calm her own nerves. 

"Wha-" Max began to ask, but Katya placed a finger over her lips to hush them, motioned them to stop, and crept silently down the hall. Something was very, very wrong. 

Leaning her head out the broken window, she caught it, that scent that seemed so deeply engraved in her memory, and her heart skipped a beat. Later she would marvel at how sensitive she'd become to him, to the faintest sound of his footsteps, the slightest whiff of his scent, but at that exact moment, she had more pressing thoughts in mind. 

"Shit." 

Rushing back down the hallway, she jabbed the button to the elevator. Nothing happened, so she pushed the button again and uttered an expletive in her native tongue. "Great, just great. The damned thing was fine half an hour ago." 

"It's just broke again," came Original Cindy's voice from behind her. "It goes out from time to time." 

"Shit," Katya repeated, turning to scan the hallway behind them for any possible means of escape. "How many stairwells?" 

"Just one that ain't blocked." Original Cindy cocked her head to the side and placed one hand on her hip. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the woman before her. She felt a chill crawl down her spine, though she would have died before admitting it to anyone there. "Mind explainin' the reason for the urgent urgency here?" Katya paced back down the hallway, ignoring her. 

"Great. The elevator's broke, and there's only one stairwell. I don't think we're going downstairs any time soon." Turning back towards Max and Logan, she frowned at Logan's bewildered expression. 

"What are you talking about?" Logan asked, but Katya could tell that he was afraid that he already knew. 

"Well, he'll be using the stairwell to come upstairs." Expelling a whoosh of air from her lungs, she tried to come up with a plan. She watched comprehension dawn in three sets of eyes. 

"We're too late, guys. We aren't going anywhere. He's already here." 


	23. 4401

Chapter Twenty-Three:

  


44-01

  
  


Katya turned her head to stare back towards the broken window. The soft breeze that blew in toyed lightly with her hair, but she didn't notice. She knew that Zack was no longer outside. By now, he was already coming up the stairs, and their time was rapidly running out. She turned to face her three companions, her eyes narrowing slightly as her mind ran through every possible escape route. "The other stairwell is blocked, you said. How is it blocked?" 

"They started to demolish this building back in '11 and never finished," Original Cindy explained as she pointed down the hallway towards the second stairwell. "The stairs are fine to go up, but from the landing between the first and second floors to the landing just below this one, there ain't nothing but air." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Katya caught the slight downturn at the corners of Max's lips, and she knew exactly what she was thinking. _If only . . ._ Sure, she and Max could normally have handled an escape under these circumstances, but Max was injured, and she had two other people to worry about. 

"Come on. If we can't go down, then we'll go up." Turning back towards the second stairwell, Katya grabbed Logan's arm with one hand and Max's hand with the other, pulling them along behind her. Original Cindy followed warily. 

"Up?" Max asked, following Katya's footsteps, but losing her train of thought. "But if we go up . . . " Logan practically saw the lightbulb go on in Max's eyes as understanding dawned. "If we go up we can cut across the eighth floor while he's looking for us on the seventh. Then maybe we can slip down the other stairwell behind of him and get the hell out of here." She sighed. "Let's just hope it works."   
  
  


Zack stood in the doorway of Max's apartment, his eyes taking in the familiar scene. The frayed furniture, the candles, the tea kettle on the stove, everything was just as he remembered it, and for a brief moment he was overcome by the memory of coming here after Brin had been captured. Stepping into the darkened interior, he let his memories wander for just an instant. 

He'd been injured, and he hadn't known where to go. He'd passed out right here, on the floor at his feet, fallen into Max's arms, and awoken in a strange apartment. That was when he had met the traitor for the first time, and he clinched his fists in anger as the memory continued. He hadn't trusted him from the beginning. If only he'd remembered to trust his instincts. Come to think of it, maybe he should have killed him right then and there, just as he'd taken care of Vogelsang. 

Slipping silently through the apartment, he found no one, no one save a black cat asleep on Max's bed. A memory tugged at him. _Milly._ That was what Jondy had named the cat, and he remembered that, for some odd reason, the animal was rather fond of him. He shook the memory off and let it sleep. 

Where had they gone? 

In Original Cindy's room, another memory pawed at him. He remembered sleeping in this bedroom after Max had taken him from the Steelheads, and he remembered awakening from a nightmare, sitting up, and seeing his own horrid face looking back at him from the mirror. But now, as he turned to gaze into its depths, the reflection that stared back at him wasn't his own. With a shout of rage he plowed his fist into the glass, leaving splintered shards in its place, but the memory was still there, the face of the man who had caused it all, the man who had ruined his life. 

Shaking his head, he turned back to the living room, but there was no sign of anything. Wandering over to the kitchen, he touched the lightbulb, an evil grin sliding across his features as he found it warm to the touch. The teakettle on the stove was still hot as well, as if they had left in hurry. He turned and left the apartment, leaving the door wide open behind him. 

Where had they gone? Someone must have warned the traitor that he was coming, that he'd remembered that they'd lied to him. Stopping just outside the door, he turned his head to study the hallway in both directions. They would have been too eager to get away to stay on this floor, and they couldn't have used the elevator. He'd taken care of that route of escape as soon as he'd gotten here. There was another stairwell, he remembered in a flash, and cursed himself as he raced down the hall. The door swung open with a thud, and he blurred down the stairs, barely stopping in time to keep from falling into several stories of nothingness. His face was a twisted mask of bewilderment as he tittered on the brink for a few seconds and gazed down over several nonexistent floors. He swore. This was their only other way out, but they couldn't have gone down, only up, so he turned and raced back up the stairs. 

_Why would they go up?_ he wondered. On the upper floors, there would be no way out, but on the next landing, he realized what they were doing. They were trying to outsmart him by cutting across an upper floor, and he burst through the door, raced across the abandoned eighth floor hallway and back down the stairs he'd come up.   
  
  


It was slow going, at least compared to her normal speed, and Katya swore silently when her ears detected the sounds of his footsteps. She heard the stairwell door slam above them and the sound of pounding feet racing down the steps where they had just trod, but with Max wounded and two civilians, they would barely make it down to the first floor and out onto street before he caught up with them . . . if they were lucky. She swore again, this time aloud. Outside there would be nowhere to hide, and with an X5 assassin after them, their transgenic cover would be blown. She had to come up with a plan, and she had to do it fast. 

As the door to the first floor loomed ahead of her, she pushed her companions through, but rather than heading for the nearest exit, she pulled them into the first room she came to and closed the door behind them. 

Turning, she surveyed the area around her. It was dark and dirty, and had once been some sort of maintenance room from what she could tell. At the far wall, sitting back in a sort of alcove, was what looked like an old furnace, or at least what was left of one. The floor was scattered with trash and debris, mostly empty bottles of cleaning solution, their paper labels faded with time and frayed by the teeth of hungry rats. Several metal shelving units sat about the room in no particular pattern, some were empty, and some were filled with old paint cans, oil jugs, and the like. The shelves that lined the far wall were filled with rusty toolboxes. Someone must have stolen the tools because they were empty. 

Logan watched as Katya took note of everything in the room. He could almost see her filing away every little detail in the back of her mind. When her eyes returned to the three people in the center of the room, they were cool, in control. Katya, he thought, was always in control. She jerked her head towards the alcove at the far side of the room. Her meaning was clear. Hide. They quickly complied, and Katya ducked behind a set of shelves. 

_So this is it,_ she thought with a sigh and glanced back towards the furnace to make sure the three were out of sight. She sent a silent prayer heavenward. _Please don't make me do this,_ but as the door shattered beneath Zack's assault, a part of her realized that she wouldn't have a choice. Crouching down into the shadows, she listened as his footsteps entered the room, stopping five steps inside the door. 

"I know you're in here," she heard him say, a deadly tone to his voice. Raising up slightly, she peered out at him from in between two toolboxes and felt her blood chill at the look in his eye. It was the look of a man who was capable of anything, of any horror the world could imagine, and she gritted her teeth at the bitter irony. General had warned them about the evil X5 assassins, and now, twelve years later, she was finally coming face to face with one. 

"You'd just as well give up now and save yourself the trouble." Behind the furnace, three bodies cowered in the darkness. Two of them swallowed nervously and moved deeper into the shadows, but Max merely closed her eyes and rested her head on her knees, not to hide herself, but to hide the tear sliding down her cheek. She didn't want Logan to know what this was doing to her. She was slightly worried about herself, but she doubted he would hurt Original Cindy. She wasn't part of this, and what had they taught them about collateral damage? She shivered at the thought as another tear fell. _I can't lose him now. God, I just can't lose him now._

"Max?" She stiffened at the sound of her name. "He lied to you, Max. I know that's why you did it, because you didn't know the truth, and I forgive you." Raising her head, she saw a measure of relief cross Logan's face. 

He was worried about himself, certainly, but he'd been worried about Max as well. He hadn't known how Zack would react to the memory of her betrayal, and he was relieved that he wasn't out to kill her as well. Reaching over, he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She slid up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, thankful that the darkness hid her tears. 

Thirty feet away, Katya was fighting her own inner battle. She knew what she'd been designed to be. She was 44-01. Fortunes had been spent to design her, to create a bodyguard who was capable of stopping an X5 assassin, but they hadn't engineered away her heart. For a moment, she wished they had. She knew that she would have to face him, that she would have to take a stand against him, but doing it was going to kill her. Just the thought of it nearly made her double over in pain, but she didn't have the luxury of hurting. Through the darkness, she watched as his eyes fell on the furnace and the shadowy alcove in which it rested. A smile touched his lips as he stepped forward, and it was something stronger than her own will that gave Katya the strength to step from behind the shelves to block his path. 

"Zack, don't." She lay a hand on his chest, silently begging him to change his mind, but he batted it away, and narrowed his eyes as he gazed at her. 

"Get out of my way, Katya. You don't understand what he's done." 

"He hasn't done anything." She lay her hand back on his chest, her eyes pleading with him to give it all up, but he couldn't, and she could see the annoyance in the set of his jaw. When he raised a hand to push her out of the way, she knocked it from her shoulder. 

"I can't let you do this, Zack." She saw the flash of anger then and blocked the hand that came up before he had the chance to shove her from his path. Using both hands, she pushed him back several steps and settled into a fighting stance. She felt the tears sting at the backs of her eyelids as she saw him do the same. 

_Please don't make me do this . . ._ She closed her eyes instinctively against the sting of the tears, a mistake, she realized an instant later, when Zack made his move. 

The kick sent her back against a metal shelving unit, though not hard enough to do any damage. He was, she realized, not fighting as hard as he could. Brainwashed or not, somehow, he didn't want to hurt her. Maybe there was still a chance . . . 

"He didn't do anything wrong," she told him as they circled, her fists held at the ready. 

"You don't know what he did," he growled. "It was his fault that the mission went sideways. If it weren't for him, we would have taken down Manticore that night, and we all would have come home in one piece." With that, he sent a punch in her direction, but she easily deflected, grabbing the offending arm and shoving him back a few feet. 

"You seriously believe that? Four of you against Manticore? It's amazing that you're all alive. What were you expecting?" 

"No, he sabotaged it. It was all his fault. If it weren't for him, Max wouldn't have been shot, and they wouldn't have made me into . . . into this thing." There was anger in his voice, and a twinge of pain, and her heart broke a little at the sound. For a moment, she wanted to give it all up, to let go and give him the comfort his battered soul needed, but right now that wasn't an option. 

"Is that what this is about?" Her heart was in her voice, and the three people behind the furnace heard it too. Max and Original Cindy shared a look. It was a tone of voice that any woman could recognize. 

"You don't know what he did to me." 

"He didn't do anything, Zack. They lied to you. Manticore lied to you. They brainwashed you into believing a lie." She watched as he shook his head in denial, though she could see it in his eye, a momentary flicker of doubt, but then it was gone. "Didn't he warn the others when Manticore was on to them?" She remembered that cable hack from the year before. At least now it made sense. "Didn't he take you to a doctor? Didn't he try to help you?" 

"It was all a lie. It was his fault that Max almost died." Behind the furnace, Logan held Max a little tighter at the remembrance of that old pain. "And if I hadn't . . ." he broke away weekly, as if unable to mention his attempt to take his own life. "He endangered all of us. He planned for us all to die." 

"Then why are you all still alive?" 

Zack took an angry breath. Katya was the last person left who could have possibly understood why he was doing what he was doing. She understood what it was to be the protector, the defender, the one in charge, but she wasn't listening, and she could see the rage cross his face. 

"If you knew what they did to me," he said again, his voice shaking. "They made me into a monster!" 

It broke her heart to hear it, brought the sting of fresh tears to her eyes once more. "You aren't a monster." Silently she pleaded with him to listen, but grew frustrated when he refused. 

"You don't know what they did to me!" He yelled. 

"Yes, I do!" she yelled back, then stilled her voice and took a steadying breath. "You aren't a monster. You're-" 

"You knew?" She watched the confusion register on his face, watched as the anger took its place. "You knew. And you lied to me, too?" He shook his head. "How could you?" 

And then, with the surge of angry blood in his veins and the pain of her betrayal in his heart, he made his move. She saw the kick coming, but she was still hurting for him, and her reaction time was a little too long. This time, when she hit the metal shelving unit, she knew he meant business, and she winced slightly at the pain in her back as she pushed herself up off of the floor and away from the busted shelves. She could still feel the imprint of his foot on her chest, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. 

"Zack, listen to me, please." 

"You lied to me!" Again he lunged for her, but she sidestepped, and his fist missed her by a fraction of an inch. Grabbing his arm just above the wrist, she flung it back at him, twisting it at a slight angle, just enough to throw him off-balance for an instant. She used the opening to sweep her leg down along the floor, knocking his feet out from under him, and leaving him sprawled out on his back, but he didn't stay there for long. In a flash, he was back on his feet, and they began to circle once again. 

It was his eyes that chilled her, and the cold hatred hidden beneath, but beyond that she could see the pain, the fear that she probably wouldn't have recognized if she hadn't become so familiar with their beautiful blue depths. She watched as his gaze darted back towards the alcove, and she lunged forward as she realized the horrible truth. 

There would be no stalling until Zack came to his senses, and if she let him slip past her, he would head straight for his target and try to finish the job. There was only one way to stop Zack, and that was to take him out. 

And that realization was more painful than any other truth she'd ever had to face. 

He deflected her move easily enough. It hadn't really been intended to hurt him, merely to keep him from slipping through the small opening she'd left by mistake and to prevent him from getting to the other side of the room. It was successful in that purpose at least, but some of the breath flew out of her lungs as he scored a direct hit to her midsection. 

She remembered his hands touching her there before, brushing her skin gently and as lightly as feathers. She swallowed back the sting of tears and sent herself into a spinning kick that left him on the floor. 

And she hated herself for having to do it. 

He rose again and aimed a punch, but she was too fast for him, her genes had made her that way, and she blocked him move for move. When he hesitated a fraction of a second too long, she took advantage of the opening and scored a direct hit of her own. She was rewarded by the sound of the air escaping from his lungs, but it took away some of her own breath as well. 

His foot streaked out of nowhere, connected with her stomach, and sent her flying back against more shelves. The tears that stung her eyes were from a pain that wasn't physical, but she managed to pull herself together. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Original Cindy peering out from behind the furnace, and she forced herself to focus on what was at stake, rather than the pain. She hated herself for what she was doing, but Zack wasn't leaving her with any other choice. 

Jumping away from the shelves, she blurred across the room, landing a punch to his midsection followed by a strong kick that sent him back against the brick wall with a sickening thud, but he was stunned for only a moment, and he came back at her again. When he aimed another kick in her direction, she caught his leg in midair, knocking him off balance and sending him flying against a shelving unit. He rose more slowly this time, but he didn't give up. Faking a punch too low, he caused her to block at the wrong place, and the hand that connected with her temple felt as though it would jar the teeth from her mouth, roots and all. She staggered back a few steps. 

"I have to do this Katya." 

"The hell you do," she grunted as she spun into another kick that knocked him back a few steps. He faltered for a moment, but he kept on coming. 

He lunged towards her with all his strength, and when her foot connected with his chest, she felt it jar all the way up to her hip. She couldn't mistake the feel of that vibration. She swallowed back the nausea as she realized that she'd just cracked at least one of his ribs. 

And that was when she made her mistake. 

In her horror, she paused just a heartbeat too long. In one smooth movement, his leg swept down along the floor, but she realized too late that he wasn't aiming for her feet, but for the section of shelves behind her. She jumped, but not soon enough, and she cried out in pain as the cold metal slammed down across her wrist, squashing her hand against the floor. 

Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched him turn his attention to the alcove across the room. It was now or never, she knew, and she pulled her hand out from under the shelving. The pain soared up her arm, but she didn't have time to think about it. 

Snaking a hand out, she grabbed him by the ankle and pulled as hard as she could. He landed face down on the floor, and she allowed herself a moment of relief when he ignored his prey and turned to face her. She easily blocked the series of punches that he sent in her direction. 

She was wearing him down, she could tell, but what would she do when she defeated him? Hold him down until he caught his breath and fight again? She couldn't pin him to the floor until he came to his senses. Brainwashing didn't work that way. 

Yes, he was definitely getting slower, she thought to herself as she ducked to avoid a kick. His exhaustion and his injuries were getting the better of him. From her position near the floor, she threw herself backwards to brace her hands against the grimy tiles and spun her feet upward, but her movement put too much pressure on her injured wrist, and as soon as her feet connect solidly with his jaw, she felt her arm go out from under her. Zack saw it too. 

They rose slowly, circling each other once more, but Zack had seen his opening. Faking a punch to her shoulder, he grabbed her wrist and twisted until she fell to her knees in pain, then he calmly turned and made his way towards the alcove. 

Now was the time, she realized as her heart hammered in her ears. If she didn't do something now, it would be too late. 

Searching frantically about the room, her eyes fell on a shelving unit filled with old paint cans. Jumping forward, she braced her good hand and a foot in the crevice behind of it and pushed with all her might, but somehow, everything went wrong. 

She had only meant to pull the shelves down on top of him, to buy herself time and to keep him from his goal, but she hadn't seen the holders where the shelves were fastened to the wall, nor the cracks in the mortar until it was too late, until she'd already jerked it free. 

It seemed for a moment as if the building was caving in. There was the horrid sound of aged cinderblock being torn from its nest, then an air-stealing cloud of dust and rubble, and then there was nothing. As the dust settled, she made out the shape of two feet sticking out from beneath a pile of crumbled bricks and paint cans, but they didn't move. The breath froze in Katya's lungs. 

"Oh God." 

In an instant, she was at his side. As she pulled aside twisted pieces of metal and cinderblock, the pain in her wrist seemed to vanish, leaving only the sound of her heart hammering in her ears. She worked until the debris was clear, then held back a sob at the sight before her. 

There was an ugly gash across his forehead. His arm was broken, it had to be, judging from the way he winced when she touched it, and his eyes gazed up at her in pain, a pain that wasn't entirely physical. Three heads peered out from behind the furnace, but neither of the people on the floor seemed to notice. 

A tear broke from Katya's eyes, followed by another. As she shook her head helplessly, they slid down her cheeks and landed on Zack's shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry," but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he couldn't hear her, not really. 

_Traitor,_ the word streaked through his mind. _Turncoat. Enemy. Betrayed._ And then he lifted his gaze to find a set of crying green eyes, and everything went black. 

As the sobs broke free from Katya's lips, she lay her head down on Zack's chest and begged his forgiveness. She seemed oblivious as the people she had sought to protect emerged from their hiding place to offer her comfort. She was too lost in her tears to notice. She hadn't meant for it to happen this way. She didn't think she'd ever forgive herself for what she had done, and even Max and Original Cindy couldn't seem to pull her away from Zack's limp body. 

When Jondy arrived several moments later with Alec and the other 44's, that was what they found, Katya sobbing helplessly into the fabric of Zack's torn shirt while Logan, Max, and Original Cindy looked on helplessly, unable to comfort her or even soothe away the fury of her tears. 


	24. Nightmares Revisited

Chapter Twenty-Four:

Nightmares Revisited

Katya stood, her good hand braced on the windowsill as she gazed through the glass at the man on the other side.  Her eyes catalogued his injuries for the fifth time in as many minutes, and in the back of her mind she relived every moment she'd spent causing them.  

His left arm was encased in some sort of brace – she'd been right, it had been broken, and in four places, at that – and there was a large bandage across his forehead that covered a gash with more stitches than she cared to remember.  Though she couldn't see them beneath the hospital sheet, she knew that several yards of identical bandaging covered his ribcage.  They'd had to operate in order to reset a broken rib.  The other four had only been hairline fractures, thank God.

Beyond those injuries, there was nothing else serious, only a black eye and a myriad of smaller cuts and bruises that were already disappearing thanks to those things in Zack's bloodstream.  What had Dr. Carr called them?  Nanocytes?  Yes, that was it.

Her eyes were dry now as she gazed in through the window, but there was a thumping pain behind them that wouldn't go away.  She'd run out of tears hours ago, and aside from the aching guilt which clawed at her soul, she felt nothing, only emptiness as she gazed through the window at Zack's broken and bandaged body.  Almost unconsciously, she flexed her right hand, but paused at the pain and the stiffness of the brace.  The pain in her hand was nothing really, not when compared to the things they'd done to her at Manticore, not when compared to the pain in her heart.

_A hairline fracture and a severe sprain.  Again she gazed through the window at Zack.  __One thing's for sure, she thought bitterly.  __When they designed us to be able to take down an X5, they didn't fool around.  A bitter laugh broke through her lips, but somehow, it sounded to her own ears more like a sob. _

Her peripheral vision detected movement, a figure coming down the deserted hallway heading slowly in her direction, but her eyes remained focused on the occupant of the room in front of her.  A few seconds later her mind registered the identity of the man joining her, but she made no sign to acknowledge him.  Reaching her side, he followed her gaze through the window to his patient, then turned to study her, his clipboard hanging uselessly at his side.

"There's a sofa back in my office if you want to get some rest," he said after a moment.  Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she shook her head.  Dr. Carr took a deep breath and studied her expression.  He'd seen that look on Max's face the night Logan had been brought in with a bad case of the chicken pox, and now he was watching that exact same expression on the exact same face, only this time it belonged to someone else.

He thought a moment and tried again.  "Katya, there's nothing you can do for Zack standing out here all night."  He reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder and watched as the corners of her mouth twisted downward for an instant.  "You've got more scrapes and bruises than you realize.  You need some rest."

For the first time in an hour, Katya turned her gaze from Zack and studied the man beside her.  His white lab coat was clean and neatly pressed, but the faded and wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants he wore beneath it were a clear indication that he had been asleep when Logan had called him in.  She frowned inwardly as her gaze caught sight of the worn sneakers on his feet.  "No, thanks, I'm fine."  She glanced down the hallway to the worn bench where Max and Logan sat, snuggled close together.  "I don't know about them, though."  Max was clearly awake, but transgenic or not, she was still recovering from a gunshot wound.  "Max's had a rough night.  She needs to rest."  She watched as one corner of Dr. Carr's mouth tilted upward.  He'd already been down that road tonight.

"Believe me, I've already tried, but once she makes up her mind about something, there's not much point in trying to convince her otherwise."  He spoke as though he had experience in the matter.  "You did a good job with that wound though.  From the look of it, it should heal up pretty well.  I gave her some medicine for pain and some antibiotics to ward off any infection, but I doubt she'll have any problems."  

"Not bad for a pocket knife and a bottle of whiskey, huh?"  She smiled faintly, turning back to face him.  "Good old fashioned Manticore field medicine."

"Well, whatever it was, if it hadn't been for you, she'd be in a lot worse shape than she is now."  Katya merely shrugged at this, then turned her gaze back to Max and Logan for a moment before returning her attention to the man on the other side of the window.  Sam thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully before he spoke.

"He really is going to be okay.  With all those nanocytes Manticore has circulating through his bloodstream, his wounds should heal in no time.  We're actually keeping him under anesthesia on purpose.  If we can keep him from moving for a little bit longer, his bones should start to set themselves.  It'll make things easier for him."  

_It'll also be easier for us, considering that he wants to kill __Logan__, Katya thought, though she didn't voice the words aloud.  He reached up to lay a hand on her shoulder once more._

"Really, Katya, he's going to be fine."

"I know," she said with a helpless shrug, her eyes never leaving Zack's sleeping form, "his body will heal.  He was made that way."  She paused to swallow back a sigh, tears once more burning at the backs of her eyes.  "It's his mind that I'm worried about."__

On a worn bench forty feet down the hallway, Max burrowed a little deeper into Logan's side and allowed herself a moment of comfort as she felt his arm tighten around her.  She was tired, so terribly, terribly tired, but at least her shoulder didn't hurt so much anymore.  Sam Carr had taken a look at it after he'd finished with Zack, and the pain medicine he'd given her was taking the edge off.  She sighed as she felt Logan brush a kiss across her hair and lifted her head to frown up at him.

"What are we gonna do Logan?" she said with a slight shake of her head.  "He won't forget this time.  When he wakes up he's going to remember everything."_  And I can't choose between you again, not like this, not when I could end up losing you no matter what._

"I know, but we'll have a little time to figure something out."  He paused a moment in thought.  Sure they would figure something out, but he hadn't the slightest idea what at the moment, and it was killing him to see the worry in Max's eyes.  "Katya said something about how they used hypnosis to resist the brainwashing at Manticore."  Max frowned up at him.  "Well, it's worth a shot, right?"  He leaned over to brush a kiss across her forehead.

"For God's sake, Cale, she's been shot.  Can't you control yourself for five minutes?" came a familiar voice from behind him.  Seconds later, Jondy walked around the bench and into his line of vision.  "How you feelin', baby sister?"  But the look on Max's face said it all.

"Don't worry, boo, it'll all work out in the end."  Original Cindy sat down on the arm of the bench and gave her friend's hand a quick squeeze as Jondy unshouldered her backpack.  A furry head popped out as she unzipped a pocket.

"Now we made a deal, Milly."  She pointed a finger at the cat lecture-style.  "You keep yourself out of sight, okay?"  The cat gazed up at her for a moment and flicked her whiskers, her green eyes narrowing slightly, as if to say, _I know, I know.  Then, with what could only be described as a smart ass feline smile, she lowered her head to rub her cheek against Jondy's outstretched finger.  Her owner merely sighed and shook her head.  "I don't know why I bothered to pick you up that morning, mouse-breath.  I should have just left you on my doorstep.  Maybe whoever dumped you there would have come back for you," but the harshness of her words was undermined by the affectionate way she reached over to scratch the cat behind her ears._

Reaching into another pocket, she pulled out a thermos and a styrofoam cup, into which she poured something which smelled mysteriously like coffee.  She handed it up to Logan.  He peered down at the dark liquid inside.

"Wow, is that what I think it is?" he asked as Jondy offered her sister a cup.

"You bet.  Alec knows someone, or so he claims.  I didn't ask."

"Where is he anyway?"

"He and Seryozha stopped at the nurses' station on the way back to flirt with the nurses," Tanya answered as she and Mikhail came down the hallway.

"All the really fine ones are straight," Original Cindy muttered, and Max grinned momentarily, but as her eyes fell on Tanya's worried face, her expression fell once more.

"How is he?" Mikhail asked as he glanced farther down the hallway to where Katya stood with Dr. Carr.

"No change really.  They're keeping him doped up to let his body repair some of the damage before he tries to get up and start moving around."  Mikhail frowned, his eyes never leaving his sister as Dr. Carr turned away from her and made his way down the hallway towards them.

"What about Katya?" he asked quietly.

"She hasn't moved an inch since you left," Logan answered.  "We tried talking to her a few times, but . . . "  He shook his head, his voice trailing off as Jondy poured two more cups of coffee and walked off in Katya's direction.  She handed one to Dr. Carr as they passed.

"Hey," she said once she reached the window.  Risking a peek inside, she frowned at the sight of her brother seemingly drowning in a sea of bandages.  He'd always seemed so invincible, so in control, so . . . stubborn.  
"Hey," Katya answered without looking up.

_She looks miserable, Jondy thought as she slid her gaze away from Zack to focus on the woman beside her.  "We brought back an extra cup of coffee.  I thought you might like some."  _

Katya remained silent for a moment, and Jondy wished briefly that she could tell what was going on inside her head.  Was she thinking about the coffee?  Or was she simply too caught up in the room's occupant to care?  The seconds ticked by in silence, and Jondy had almost given up on any further response from Katya when she turned and took the offered cup with a weak smile.  "Thanks," she said with a sigh.

"Any change?"  Jondy already knew the answer, but she needed to draw Katya out.  If Katya felt about Zack the way she'd felt about Brian, then she could understand how she was feeling . . . only Brian wasn't lying in a hospital bed under anesthesia.  Chastising herself, Jondy shook off the thought.  She didn't need to think about Brian now.  Later.  She'd let herself think about that later.

"No," Katya said with a shake of her head as she sipped the coffee.  Black wasn't her favorite.  Hell, to be perfectly honest, she usually didn't drink coffee, but she didn't really care right now.   "Nothing."  She swallowed nervously, then shrugged.  "They all say he'll be okay, but . . ." she sighed, leaving the thought unfinished for a moment, "how can he be okay after what they did to him?"  She rubbed her eyes with the fingertips of her bandaged hand, and stared down into the dark liquid for a moment, almost as if the answers to every question in the universe were swirling in its murky depths.

"I'll never forgive myself for what I had to do," she finally whispered, her gaze resting on her bandaged hand, "but I didn't have a choice.  What'll happen when he wakes up?  How do we stop what's going on in his head?"

_I don't know, Jondy thought, but she knew the answer wasn't what Katya needed right now, so she simply rested a comforting hand on her shoulder and said, "Don't worry, it'll all work out in the end."  __I just wish I knew how . . . _

_They're going to do something to me, that Zack knew, but he didn't know what.  He studied the room around him and wondered if this procedure would help him, but the more he looked at his surroundings, the more uneasy he felt.  _

He couldn't remember anything, not really, but he'd memorized the story they'd told him since that day he'd first woken up with his head wrapped in bandages and no memory whatsoever.  He was a soldier, a special kind of soldier called X5, and he'd been wounded on a mission.  They were fixing him, making him better than he had been before, in fact, and now they said they had a special medical procedure that would help him remember, but now, standing in this room, looking at their "medical equipment," something felt terribly wrong.  He didn't know how he knew, but somehow, he had to get away.  Someone had done something like this to him before, somewhere, and it had been a bad thing.  He hesitated a moment, not sure what was about to happen, but the officer behind him gave him a shove forward.

"Move, soldier!"

Then came a sort of panic, and he took a step sideways, trying to move away from the man behind him and the machinery at the same time, but suddenly there were a dozen hands on him at once, strong hands that pushed him towards the table.  He fought as hard as he could, but they outnumbered him, and he was still weak from his injuries.  He fought them for as long as he could, even after they had strapped him down, rolling his head from side to side until it too was immobilized.  

And then came the blinding pain.  He'd fought it as long as he could, trying not to look at the screen before him or the words and pictures that flashed across it.  _Traitor.  Enemy.  Target.  Agitator.  Subversive.  Turncoat.   Over and over again the words cycled through, randomly interrupted by an eerily familiar shot of a man's face . . . a man's face, but only his eyes._

He'd fought them for as long as he could.  He'd struggled with his bonds and tried to block them out of his mind, but eventually, he'd broken down.  He hadn't had the strength to fight any longer.

And that was all he could remember from that day.

He remembered other things too.  He remembered them telling him that Eyes Only was the enemy, that Eyes Only had tried to destroy the mission, that he'd been responsible for the deaths of some of his fellow soldiers, and for his own injuries as well.

But they hadn't told him what the mission had been.

He remembered standing on a firing range, every muscle in his body tensed with anger and hatred as he fired at his target, a screenshot from an Eyes Only broadcast.  

But he still couldn't remember exactly what Eyes Only _had done._

He knew that Logan Cale was Eyes Only.  He'd remembered that now, as well, and after searching his mind for what seemed like days, he could remember the night they'd tried to take down Manticore . . . but he couldn't remember Logan doing anything that had endangered them.

_They lied to you. Manticore lied to you. They brainwashed you into believing a lie . . .  The words came to him from somewhere, but he didn't know where.  Someone had told them that.  He could hear her voice ringing in his ears.  Who?  Who had it been?  _

Katya . . . 

_Agitator.__  Subversive.  Turncoat.  _

He tried to push the memory away.  Somewhere deep inside he'd remembered the psychoactives, the words that had etched themselves into his mind as if burned there with a hot brand, the practices at the firing range, everything, but they'd been too painful for him to deal with, and so he'd pushed them to the back of his mind.

But now, after everything that had happened, the images were resurfacing.  He tried to push them back again, to use the same tactics he'd used before, but his mind dodged past its own defenses, thrusting the memories back at him again, back to the front of his mind.

And so Katya stood at the window, watching Zack as he lay there in the hospital bed, his body as still as death, never knowing the fierceness of the battle that waged on inside his soul.


	25. Someone Else

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Someone Else

Zack awoke slowly, his senses coming dully to alert.  Something was wrong, but through his drug-induced drowsiness, he couldn't seem to hold a clear thought long enough to identify the source of his sense of foreboding.  _Calm down, he told himself, an old lesson from his childhood rising to the front of his mind.  __Never react before fully assessing the situation.  Panicking gives the opponent the upper hand.  Taking a calming breath, he tried to sort the sensations one by one.  Maybe he could make them make sense that way. _

Light, yes, there was light on the other side of his closed eyelids, so it must be daylight.  No, wait, it didn't feel like sunlight on his face.  It was artificial lighting then, so there was no telling just what time it was, or where he was, for that matter.  His nose twitched slightly as he took in the scent of antiseptic.  A hospital, perhaps?  Yes, he must be in a hospital.  A moment later, he was able to sort out the tenderness in his ribcage, then the weight of a heavy bandage on his arm, and then the dam broke. Everything hurt, he realized suddenly, from the top of his head right down to the tips of his toes . . . and someone was holding his hand.

His hand fluttered ever-so-slightly at the almost familiar sensation as his mind searched for focus.  Where was he?  What was going on?  The last thing he remembered was . . . was fighting with Katya.  Gazing up at her tear-stained face as she dug him out of the rubble . . . 

_No . . .  He winced as the memory of that fight rose to mind.  He remembered grabbing her hand, knowing it was injured and using that against her.  He'd brought her to her knees in pain, all the while ignoring that nagging voice in the back of his mind that screamed to him that he didn't really want to do it . . . only he hadn't had a choice._

Why hadn't he had a choice?  Why had he been fighting her, again?  He couldn't seem to remember, but he had to.  He lowered his brow, trying to dig out that memory.  Yes, there it was.  She'd been trying to stop him from doing something . . . but what?  In another moment he had the answer . . . and he felt goose bumps run down his back.  He'd been trying to kill Logan . . . because Logan was Eyes Only . . . and because Manticore had tricked him into it.

Suddenly, in a blinding flash, it all came back to him, the torture, the brainwashing, and the nightmares that had been tormenting him since that last view of Katya's tear-stained face.  He felt the breath catch in his throat.

_What have I done . . ._

_Exactly what Manticore wanted you to do, came the answer.  _

After all these years, Manticore had finally gotten him, and they had turned him into a monster, into a mindless, will-less machine.  They had even taken away his choice to die.  There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he would have killed Logan if he'd gotten the chance, and, if she'd gotten in the way, he would have gone through Max to do it.

_Max . . . _

_Oh God . . . All this time he'd been trying to protect Max, trying to protect all of them.  All those years ago, as he'd led them on a mad dash through the Wyoming snow, that had been his only thought.  He'd even died for Max, sacrificed his life so that she could live, but none of that would have mattered if Katya hadn't stopped him, because Manticore had turned him into the very threat he'd been protecting them from for so long.  Or rather, trying to protect them from._

They'd turned him into the enemy, and even though he knew he'd been powerless to stop it, he hated himself at that moment, hated himself with all the passion that had fueled his hatred of Manticore since the night of the escape.

_We have met the enemy, he thought bitterly to himself.  __And he is us._

But Katya, what had he done to Katya?

"Come on, big brother," came a familiar voice.  "I know you're awake."  He felt a reassuring squeeze on his right hand, perhaps the strangest sensation of all.  He wasn't used to having someone hold his hand, and digging back through his foggy memories, he couldn't remember the last time anyone had, not counting Katya.  In fact he'd lay odds on the fact that no one before her ever had.  Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

"Decided to join us?" Jondy asked teasingly, one corner of her mouth tilted upward.  He stared at her, remembering the lines of her face as it slowly came into focus above his own.  But he could see something in her eyes, some worry that she was trying to keep hidden from him, perhaps from everyone.

His eyes drifted up over Jondy's shoulder to the man standing behind her.  He paused for a moment, trying to sort through the memories.  _Mikhail.  On the other side of the bed stood Tanya and Sergei, but where was Katya?  His heart skipped a beat.  Had he hurt her worse than he'd thought?  Aside from her hand, she'd seemed fine physically in his last confused glimpse of her, but what if there was something that he couldn't remember about that fight?  What if . . .  He moistened his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but the words came out as a whisper._

"Where's Katya?"  

_Where's Katya?  It was the last thing Jondy ever would have expected to hear.  She'd been dreading this moment since they'd brought him here to Metro Medical, and she'd spent the last few hours searching her soul for the best way to handle the situation.  She'd thought she'd been prepared.  She'd been expecting a "Where is he?" or a "Did I kill him?" or maybe even a "Where's Max?", and she'd prepared herself to deal with any of those questions, but those two simple words left her completely at a loss.  Of course, it also meant that he remembered the fight. _

He remembered, and injured or not, he still had the orders Manticore had given him.  Certainly he was too weak now to get up and go after Logan again, but that was why the 44's were here, wasn't it?  To be here, just in case?  Was he angry with Katya?  Was she a target now, too?  Glancing nervously at Sergei and Tanya, she decided that Zack was in no condition to cause any damage at the moment, and she leaned slightly to the side.  

At first Zack didn't understand.  He was tired, and his eyelids were already becoming unbearably heavy, but as his eyes struggled to remain focused on Jondy, another figure came into view.  Back behind her, leaning against the far wall, Zack could make out Katya's figure.  Her hand was bandaged, he realized as he felt his stomach sink, and she was standing as far away from his bed as she could possibly be without leaving the room, but it was the expression on her face that got him, and the way she studied him so carefully with those wary green eyes.

And for a moment, the pain of that realization overshadowed every aching bone and muscle in his body.  He swallowed slowly as his eyes fell back to the bandage on her wrist.

He'd hurt her, and he hated himself for it.  And now, looking across the room at her, at the distrust in her eyes, he knew she had good reason for feeling the way she did.  After what he'd tried to do, after what he'd done to her, she'd never trust him again . . . and he couldn't blame her a bit.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to no one and everyone at the same time.  Noticing Jondy's look of confusion, he belatedly realized that she'd probably never heard him speak those particular words aloud.  No, he'd never been one to apologize, not until recently anyway.  Apologies were a waste of time, a waste of energy that never really mattered because they didn't undo the original mistake, and he'd never bothered with them before now for those simple reasons.  So why was he bothering now?

Because he'd gone soft, he realized in an instant.  He'd forgotten what it was to be on the run, to spend more time watching behind you than in front of you.  It was a mistake he couldn't continue to make.

Turning his eyes back to Jondy, he saw the confusion melt into warmth, and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.  Yes, there was Jondy, always trying to take care of someone, trying to play the mother, and here she was, trying to make him feel comfortable, even though she didn't know that it was over.  She didn't know that Logan's life wasn't in danger any more, at least not from him.  He took a deep breath and returned her squeeze.

"It's okay, Jondy."  His voice was getting stronger, even if he was still tired.  It sounded more like a croak now than a whisper.  "I remember . . . I know what they did to me.  I'm not going to try to kill him again."  It hurt to make such an admission, to acknowledge what Manticore had done to him, and to concede his part in it all.  He watched as she regarded him cautiously for a moment, as if not quite sure what to believe, then she reached up to wipe the hair from the bandage at his forehead and smiled.

"It's okay.  You need to rest.  Dr. Carr's looking after you, and he says you need to keep quiet and let those nanocyte things do their job, okay?"

Zack studied her for a moment through heavy-lidded eyes.  Yes, he was still tired.  They'd probably had him under some sort of anesthesia, a thought that made him more than a little bit uncomfortable, and a lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but he couldn't just lay here.  With so many dangers at their backs, he had to keep moving.  Forcing his eyelids to stay open, he watched a frown cross Jondy's face, as if she were reading his mind.

"For once, Zack, just stay put.  We're all out here watching, and if _anything happens, we'll take care of you, okay?"  She frowned down at his determined expression and tried one more time.  "Look, you're in no condition to go running around outside.  If anybody's out there looking for you, they'll have no problem catching up to you like this.  You're safer in here where you can just lay low.  Don't worry," she said as she glanced up at her companions, "they're keeping an eye out for trouble too, okay?"_

It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, and at any other time, he certainly would, but he was so desperately tired, and she was right.  In this condition, he'd be an easy target for anyone hunting transgenics.  Besides, he'd seen what one 44 could do.  With four 44's and several X5's around, Jondy was probably right.  He'd be fine with them around.  

And so, with his tired eyelids sliding downward, Zack gave a simple nod and did something he'd never done before.  

He let someone else take care of him.

"I don't care if Mrs. Dreyer doesn't tip," Normal yelled across the din of the busy room.  "You aren't going on break until that package is delivered, and that's final."  Without waiting for a response from his unhappy messenger, he turned and reached for his coffee.  "Unwashed miscreants," he muttered under his breath.

From his place in the corner, Logan wiggled uneasily in his seat.  He'd only been here for a few hours, and he was already forming a new respect for Max and Original Cindy.  How did they put up with this everyday?  Whatever little they got paid for this job, it couldn't be nearly enough.  "Look, I'm really sorry to be in the way.  I can leave if-"

"No, don't worry about it," Normal interrupted as he studied a paper attached to his clipboard.  "No problem at all."

_Sure, Logan thought.  __No problem at all._

Scooting around in his seat some more, he tried to get comfortable.  For a moment, he was glad that he couldn't feel anything on the lower end of his body.  He'd been sitting for so long that his rear-end was probably numb.  His back was already killing him.

It had been Jondy's idea to bring him here.  She'd been afraid of what might happen if he was around when Zack woke up, and she didn't want to take him to any obvious location, just in case Zack was somehow able to come after him, so she'd called in a favor.  Annoying or not, he had to admit that JamPony was definitely not somewhere Zack would think to look for him, and he certainly had enough witnesses.  Alec was, of course, playing bodyguard, and even though he'd spent most of the morning across the room, Logan could tell that the X5 wasn't missing a thing.  He frowned as the phone beside his ear rang for at least the hundredth time that morning, and he glanced up as Normal answered it.

"Thank you for calling JamPony.  How may I help you?"  Logan had heard the phrase so many times today that he was sure he'd hear it in his sleep for at least a week.  "Oh, hey, how are things?"  He glanced up to see that Normal was motioning towards the phone at the far end of the counter.  "Okay, sure.  I'll put him on," he told the person on the other end of the conversation, then reached up to hit the hold button.  "Line 2," he told Logan as he turned to hand a package to another messenger, though Logan could tell he was still paying close attention.

"Hello?"

"Well, hello there, Cale," came Jondy's familiar voice.  "You and Reggie havin' fun?"

"Tons."  He listened to her chuckle as Alec made his way across the room to the counter.  "So," he asked nervously, "what's going on?"

"Well, he just woke up briefly.  He talked a little, and then zonked out again, but there's definitely some good news."  It must have been very good news, because she was sounding considerably more upbeat than she had the last time she'd called.

"How good?" he asked, trying not to hold his breath.

"Well, apparently his memory's back, _all of it.  He woke up, apologized, and said that he remembered Manticore torturing him and trying to convince him to kill you.  Just before he fell asleep again, he said he wasn't going to try to kill you again."  Logan paused a moment, considering._

"Are we sure he's not lying?" he finally asked.  "What if it's just bait?"

"No, it's not bait, don't worry.  He didn't really seem all that concerned about you, except to say that he wasn't going to kill you, and he didn't mention Max at all.  He seems more concerned about . . . other things."  Logan wondered briefly just what those 'other things' might be, but decided to leave it at that.

"How's Max?"

"Like new.  I don't know how comfortable Dr. Carr's sofa is, but she was out like a light as soon as she lay down.  She just woke up a few minutes ago."  Jondy smiled at the relieved sigh she heard through the phone.  "Anyway, I figured I'd better call and let you know that the coast is clear."

"Thanks.  I'll be over as soon as I can get there."

"No problem.  Hey, can I talk to Reggie again?"

"Sure," Logan said, motioning to Normal.  Alec frowned as he watched his boss pick up on the other phone.

"That was Jondy, she said that-"

"Zack woke up and remembered everything," Alec put in.  He gestured briefly towards his ear before lowering his hand and turning the gesture into a neck rub in case anyone was watching.

"Yeah," Logan said.  He'd forgotten about that super-sensitive transgenic hearing.  "I'm heading back to the hospital," he called back over his shoulder as he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

"Wouldn't want to miss your woman," Alec muttered as he watched Logan leave, then he turned towards his boss and watched as Normal hung up the phone.  He studied him for a moment, then slid down the counter towards the pickup window.

"So," he said, leaning closer, "what's up with you and Jondy, anyway?"

For a moment, Normal had to struggle to keep the amusement from his face.  No, he couldn't let down his work persona, not for Alec anyway.  "Just an old friend," he answered vaguely as he made his way down a package checklist.

Alec pressed on.  "How old?  I mean, how'd you guys meet anyway?"  Normal looked up from his clipboard for a moment, as if pondering his answer.

"Well, I've actually known her since '09.  She ran in front of my car one morning on the way to work.  Messed up the hood and broke out a headlight."  With an ambiguous shrug, he turned to the stack of packages beside him.  "Well, Logan's gone, and you don't have to hang around here, so I'm going to have to make you work for a living, now, aren't I?"

"Huh?"  Alec hadn't realized that Normal knew why he'd been sticking around.  He'd thought that Normal had simply overlooked giving him any packages.

"421 Montgomery," he said as he handed Alec a brown packing tube.  Then he turned to hand a package to another messenger.  Alec stared at him a moment, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.  He'd ask Max about it sometime, he decided as he turned to go.

"Hey," he heard Normal call from behind him.  Turning, he saw him motioning him back. 

"What do you need, boss?" he asked as he sauntered back to the counter.

"Don't take all day about it, okay?"  Alec nodded and turned to go as Normal leaned forward to whisper in his ear.  "And pull up your collar would you?  Your barcode's showing again."  With that, Normal turned and walked back to the far counter to study a ledger book, leaving Alec standing alone at the window with a bewildered expression.  After a moment, he reached up, discretely adjusted his collar, and made his way towards the door.  Sending one last baffled look in Normal's direction, he decided that he would _definitely have to ask Max about this one._

When Zack awoke again several hours later, it only took a few seconds for him to remember where he was.  He still hurt, but he was already feeling much better.  The tenderness in his ribs had receded into a dull ache, rather than the pounding pain from before, and the throbbing in his temples had nearly gone.  Closing his eyes, he tried to go back to sleep, but sleep eluded him, so he lay there, wide awake, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above.

And now that he was awake, all he could do was think.

To tell the truth, he felt guilty about what he'd almost done to Logan.  He didn't exactly like Logan, but he didn't exactly want to kill the guy, either.  Maybe he was a danger to Max, but Logan had also stuck his neck out to help them in the past, especially that fateful night when they'd tried to take down Manticore, and even he could admit that Logan's help had been invaluable.  Jealous?  Of course he was jealous.  He'd always cared for Max, and knowing that she loved Logan instead of him was like a sucker punch to the gut, but he still didn't want to kill Logan.  And if Logan loved Max back, he couldn't exactly blame him for that, either, could he?  Certainly not when he knew the feeling himself.  Zack sighed.  He could acknowledge the fact that Max loved Logan, even if he didn't like him, and he knew how much hurting Logan would hurt Max.  He didn't want to hurt Max, but what was he supposed to do?  He didn't have the slightest clue.

Frowning slightly, he turned his head to the side, his gaze moving from the ceiling to stare at the hallway outside the window. There, standing just outside his room, gazing in at him hesitantly, stood Katya.

For a moment they merely gazed at each other, each mapping and analyzing the anxiety in the other's eyes, both wondering if the other would ever trust them again.  Then, taking a deep breath and rallying her courage, Katya stepped away from the window and entered the room.

She'd thought that the air had been heavy out in the hallway, but she'd been wrong.  In here, it felt as if it was weighed down by some unseen force from above, and she was finding it hard to breath.  Taking a few more steps forward, she came to rest at the end of Zack's bed, her eyes leaving his only briefly to quickly survey his injuries, but when her gaze came back to his, it was the cuts, bruises, and bandages that registered in her mind, not the look on his face.  _Speak now or forever hold your peace . . .  She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak._

"Hey," was all that came out.  She didn't really know what else to say.  It hurt to look at him, to remember her part in what had happened, to remember the look on his face as she'd dug him out of the rubble . . . 

"Hey."  It sounded so pathetic to his own ears when he really wanted to take her hand in his and beg for her forgiveness, but no, he couldn't do that.  Several days ago, he might have, but an apology would do no good now.  No words could take away the pain he had caused her, nothing would.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, feeling like a hypocrite.  _What kind of a person beats the snot out of someone and then comes to inquire as to their welfare?  She winced at the thought._

_Damn it.  He'd hurt her.  The pain was right there in her eyes, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to take it away from her.  He wished briefly that his bed was right beside of a wall.  Maybe then he could have turned and taken out some of his frustration on the innocent drywall, but the closest wall was six feet away, and he didn't need to let an outburst like that come out when Katya was right here.  __Just what she needs, right?  To see me beat up on something else?_

"I'm alright.  I've had worse."  He frowned at the bandage on her wrist, mentally kicking himself.  "What about you?"  He watched the corner of her mouth come up in an attempted half-smile.

"I'm alright.  I've had worse."  And then her failed attempt at a smile fell, and her eyes left his face and focused on the far wall, as if she couldn't bear to look at him.

_Why are you so surprised? he asked himself suddenly.  He lived a dangerous life, and anyone who crossed his path ran the risk of being hurt.  He'd let Katya get caught in the crossfire because he'd forgotten the risks he ran by being what he was.  It was too late to undo what he'd already done, but maybe he could keep from hurting her further.  She didn't seem to be able to stand the sight of him now, so the sooner she didn't have to look at him, the better._

"Any word on how much longer they're trying to keep me here?"  He watched as her eyes drifted back from the wall to meet his own.  She shrugged.

"Not too much longer, I'm sure."  She managed a half-decent smile.  "You heal a lot faster than Dr. Carr's normal clientele."

"Yeah."  He paused and took a deep breath.  "I'm just kind of anxious to get out of Seattle."

If he saw the pain those words sent through her, he didn't show it, but it amazed Katya that she hadn't doubled over.  So that was it.  He still wanted to go.  He'd come to Seattle and tried to kill Logan, but now that he'd changed his mind about that, he had no reason to stay, not even for her.

And just as quickly as it had come, the pain vanished, leaving only anger in its wake.

"Don't you ever get tired of running?"

Her question caught him off-guard, but only for a moment.  Of course he did, that was why they'd attacked Manticore that night, wasn't it?  So they wouldn't have to run anymore?  _But see where that got us, he thought bitterly._

"It doesn't matter if I get tired of it or not.  I have to do it."  A bit of defensiveness crept into his tone.

"But how much have you left behind you?" she pressed.  She was lucky, she realized.  Maybe she lived a life on the run, too, but she wasn't _constantly moving, and besides, she took her family with her.  How could he stand to live a live devoid of any real human relationships?_

_Maybe he doesn't want any, she thought to herself, and that thought hurt a little more._

"I haven't left anything behind," came the answer, and for a moment, Katya heard an echo behind his voice_.  Never think about the things you want that you just can't have, never become too comfortable with your situation, and never tie yourself down so tightly that you can't run if you need to. _

_ Zack had followed her own rules better than she had, Katya realized suddenly.  Since she'd met Zack, she'd broken them all.  She'd let herself imagine a life with him, one that she realized now she couldn't have.  She'd become too comfortable with him, deluded herself into thinking that they just might have a chance, and now that she didn't want to leave him, he was taking that choice away from her._

She wondered briefly about the changes she'd watched in him since they'd met.  She'd fallen in love with him before he'd remembered everything, and she couldn't help but wonder who the "real" Zack was.  Had he only just remembered enough to remember who he was?  Or was the man she had fallen in love with the "real" Zack?  Was the man before her no more than a cleverly constructed façade, a mask that he had erected against the real world?

In the end, it didn't matter, not really.  If he wanted to leave, then there was nothing she could do to make him stay.  Trying to convince him otherwise would only be a waste of her time.

So why was she still here in this room?  If it was over, then it was over, and no matter how much it hurt, there was nothing she could do.  She took a steadying breath.

"You lead a very lonely life, don't you?" she asked, then frowned and turned back towards the door.  She would never know just how close she had come to the truth, because even though she stopped as she lay a hand on the door handle, she never turned back to face him, she was too busy hiding her tears, and she never saw just how deeply her remark had cut.  

"I fell in love with the person you let yourself be before you remembered that you were supposed to be someone else," she said, trying to control the shaking of her hand against the doorknob.  "I see now that I was mistaken, and I hope that I haven't been too much of an inconvenience for you."  She swallowed, trying to keep the sound of tears from her voice.  "Good luck, Zack.  Goodbye."  And then she was gone.


	26. Welcome to the Real World

Chapter Twenty-Six:

  


Welcome to the Real World

  
  


There are times when having a photographic memory is more of a burden than a gift, times when the ability to recall an entire conversation word-for-word causes more pain than that skill could ever make up for in convenience, and Zack was experiencing one of those moments. 

Sighing, he wiped his good hand down his face, as if the pressure of his fingertips against his eyelids might somehow purge the image from his mind. His hand paused only briefly at the spot on his forehead where the bandage had been removed. He'd been told that the gash was already healing over, that there was already a layer of healthy new skin taking over the spot where the stitches had been sown in, but at the moment, he just didn't give a damn. All he could see was the image of Katya's back as she walked away from him. He hadn't been able to see her face, but he knew that there had been pain there. He could tell from the way her hands had shaken, from the way her knuckles had turned white as she'd gripped the doorknob, from the way her shoulders had slumped when she'd said goodbye. 

_I fell in love with the person you let yourself be before you remembered that you were supposed to be someone else . . . I see now that I was mistaken, and I hope that I haven't been too much of an inconvenience for you . . ._ With a groan, he turned his head to face the opposite wall. 

It was for the best, he knew. He'd already caused Katya immeasurable pain, and now that he was out of her life, he couldn't hurt her anymore. At least that was what he kept telling himself, but somehow, it just didn't seem right. Something tugged at the back of his mind, and some inner voice whispered that, this time, he'd done it all wrong. 

And the gut-wrenching pain in his chest wasn't helping. 

_You wanted her to stay,_ came the voice. _You wanted her to stay but you sent her away because-_

With an oath, Zack pushed the voice from his mind. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to know where the course of his thoughts might lead him, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He rang for the nurse and asked for enough sedatives to knock him out for several hours.   
  
  


Max was standing at the window, gazing in through the glass at her brother, when he found her. He knew that she'd heard him coming. Even if her sensitive hearing had missed the soft tread of his footsteps, the sound of the exoskeleton was hard to ignore in the silent hallway. As he came closer, she turned to offer him a half-smile, but he surprised her by stepping behind her, rather than beside of her, and reached down to embrace her from behind. 

Within the circle of his arms, he felt her jump and begin to pull away, and for an instant, he thought he'd bumped her shoulder, but then he heard her sigh as she relaxed and leaned back into his embrace. _Habitual reaction,_ he realized after a moment. Max had been so used to avoiding any contact between them that now, even though the virus was no more than a memory, she still panicked for a moment whenever he touched her. 

She'd get used to it soon, he supposed, because when all this was over, Logan planned on touching her quite a bit. 

_Calm down,_ Max told herself, feeling like a fool. The virus was gone, over with, but she had still experienced that moment of sheer terror when Logan had touched her. Images flashed through her mind. _Logan falling to the floor, convulsions already setting in as she'd tried to comfort him . . . letting go when she'd learned what was happening . . . watching Logan in the hospital, motionless and silent as the doctors clamored around him . . . praying in the chapel . . . her relief when Asha came to tell her that it was only the chicken pox._

Sighing, she let herself lean deeper into his arms. He felt wonderful, better than wonderful, actually. It had been far too long since she's been able to hold his hand, or touch the stubble on his face, or run her fingers through his hair or . . . 

_Down, girl!_

"Hey." Taking a calming breath, she turned her head to the side to peer up over her shoulder at him, a teasing light in her brown eyes. "I know you. Mr. Eastman, right?" Leaning forward, he nuzzled her cheek with his nose and hid a small smile when she turned in his arms and met his lips halfway. It took every last bit of will power that he had left to pull away a moment later, but when he did, he saw his own thoughts reflected in Max's eyes. There would be more later, but this was neither the time nor the place for that. 

He gazed at her for a moment, studying the familiar curves of her face. Raising one hand, he cupped her jaw and traced some of those curves with the pad of his thumb. The memories of the night before were still too fresh in his mind. _The sight of Katya helping her through the door, mostly too weak to hold herself up, her shoulder covered in bloody bandages . . ._ Mentally, he shook the image from his mind. "How are you feeling?" 

He was remembering last night, Max noted. She could tell from the look in his eyes. 

"Pretty well, considering." She shrugged with her good shoulder, trying to downplay the seriousness of the night before. The corner of her mouth tilted up in wry amusement. "This really isn't a good year for me and bullets, you know?" She sighed quietly as she felt his arms tighten around her. Closing his eyes against the memories, he leaned over to kiss her forehead. 

"How is he?" he asked after a moment. 

Turning to glance in through the window, he could see that Zack was still asleep. The bandage that had covered his brow was gone now, and the ugly bruise around his eye was almost completely faded. They'd never bothered to put an actual cast on his arm, he noticed. It would have been a waste anyway. 

"He's okay," Max answered, her gaze following his. "His bones are healing, and Dr. Carr says he's going to let him go tonight." Looking up at him, she laid her hands on his shoulders and smiled. "He remembers, Logan. It's over." 

Logan could see the relief in her eyes, and he understood. He'd seen her make that decision before, when she'd been forced to choose between the two of them, and he'd hated to see the pain in her eyes when she'd made it. 

And he hadn't even been able to take her hand to comfort her. 

Looking down at her now, at the peace in her eyes, at the smile on her lips, every thought seemed to fly right out of his mind. _God, but she's beautiful._ So beautiful that at that moment, if he didn't breathe automatically, he knew he'd have forgotten how to perform the process all-together. All he could think was how amazing she was, how good she felt in his arms, how much he'd missed touching her. Glancing down the hall in both directions, he threw caution to the wind and lowered his head for a brief kiss. 

At least, Logan had intended it to be a short, sweet kiss. A hospital corridor wasn't exactly the perfect place for a romantic interlude, but the instant their lips met, his stomach clinched, his arms tightened around her, and he couldn't seem to let go. Every thought flew right out of his head when she wound one arm around his neck. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, hear the blood rushing in his ears . . . 

"Oh God, not again. Don't you two ever take a bathroom break?" He felt Max chuckle beneath him as she pulled back slightly to face her sister. 

"Don't look at me, baby sister, it's _your_ timing." 

"Me?" Jondy asked innocently. "Cale's the one that can't keep his hands off of you." She smiled teasingly at Logan, who stood there, his arms still around Max, a goofy expression on his face. It was a nice change from the first time she had seen him, worried and miserable, hating himself because Max needed his help and he couldn't touch her. Yes, it was a nice change indeed. "What are you doing? Giving Zack a show?" 

"He's asleep. I doubt he'd know the difference." 

"I know. The nurse on duty said he called about an hour ago and asked for a sedative." 

"He asked for a sedative?" Max asked, confusion showing on her face. "That doesn't sound right," she muttered as she turned to give Logan a worried look. The brother she knew would want to be wide awake, looking for that ever-present danger he was always suspecting and getting ready to leave as soon as possible. 

"I know," Jondy said again, though the look in her eyes made Logan think that she knew more than she was saying. She reached for the doorknob. "I think I'm going to go inside and wait for him to wake up. You two quit necking in the hallway, okay?" Smiling, she went into Zack's room. Logan frowned down at Max as the door closed behind her. 

"Something's up," Max said, voicing his thoughts. 

"You got that feeling too, huh?" 

"Yeah, but she's not talking." Reaching down to take Logan's hand, she pulled him down the hallway. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Somewhere else. My big sister's the best meddler in the business, and I'm staying out of her way."   
  
  


When Zack awoke, the first thing he saw was Jondy's face. Rising from the chair beside of his bed, she smiled down at him and reached over to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. He wondered briefly how long she'd been in the room. The thought of someone watching him while he slept made him more than a little uneasy. 

"How are you feeling?" she asked after studying his healing wounds for a moment. Rather than sitting back down, she remained standing beside the bed. 

"Like it's time for me to get out of here," he answered. _Out of here, away from the memory of Katya leaving this room . . ._

"Good," she said, her smile becoming a little sweeter. Zack stared up at her. Something wasn't right, and alarm bells started going off in his head the instant the smile slid from her face. "You pigheaded jerk." 

Zack blinked, surprised by the sudden change in her tone even before the meaning of her words set in. "Wh . . . What?" 

"You know, pigheaded? As in stubborn? Obstinate? And jerk, as in-" 

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, starting to sit up in his bed. Jondy merely placed one hand on his shoulder and shoved him back against the sheets. She left her hand where it was for a moment, a not-so-subtle suggestion that he stay put. 

"I'm talking about the fact that if somebody hadn't already beaten the shit out of you, I'd do it myself right now." She watched as his eyes focused on her determined expression, the stubborn set of her jaw, and she crossed her arms angrily in front of her. 

It was, Jondy reflected, the only time she'd ever seen Zack speechless, and even then it only lasted for a few seconds. She watched as the familiar expression settled on his face. _Here comes the C.O.,_ she thought. 

"Look, soldier-" He was cut off as Jondy reached a hand out and smacked him in the head. Though she was careful to avoid his healing wounds, she still got his attention. 

"Manticore's gone. Welcome to the real world." She gave the words a few seconds to sink in. "Just how long is it going to take for you to figure that out?" She watched as he raised his good hand in a threat. _Typical Zack,_ she thought. If anyone dared to disagree with him, he would usually use force to keep them in line. "And don't even think about trying to beat me up for disagreeing. I think I'm at a slight advantage right now." She watched as he considered this a moment, then lowered his hand. 

"So what do you want?" he grumbled. 

"I want to know what the hell you think you're doing." She watched the bewilderment cross his face. "Several hours ago, Katya came stalking out of this room, ran to the nearest bathroom, and, judging from her expression when she came out, spent a good long while crying her eyes out." 

He felt it then, another strong punch to the gut, and it was all he could do to keep up his annoyed expression. _I hurt her again. Maybe I should just leave right now,_ he thought, _before I hurt her again._

But Jondy had seen it, that flash of concern in his eyes before the mask came up again. Lowering her arms, she sat down on the bed beside him. Her frustration at her block-headed brother began to melt away. There was more here than met the eye. 

"What's going on between the two of you?" she asked, her voice lowered, the anger no longer so apparent. 

"Nothing." He glanced away, unable to meet the curiosity in her gaze. Oh, he could look her in the eyes and lie to her if he had to, but he didn't want to. He liked Jondy better when she was angry; he knew how to handle angry, but this sisterly Jondy who was sitting here asking him about his personal life was a complete mystery. When he glanced back a moment later, she was studying him intently, her head cocked lightly to the side. He felt like a laboratory specimen. He could feel her looking right through him, and she didn't even need a microscope. 

_What's going on, indeed?_ Jondy asked herself. She'd come in here to give Zack a piece of her mind, to try to make him understand that he couldn't spend his life playing C.O., at least not anymore. She was pretty sure that Katya cared for her brother, but he certainly hadn't taken her feelings into consideration. If he intended to spend the rest of his life as a stubborn idiot, then she was going to point out the error of his ways. She'd learned the hard way that life was too short not to be lived, but when his gaze came back to her face, she suddenly realized that he may be readier for that lesson than she'd thought. 

"Oh my God," she breathed, shaking her head. "You're in love with her, aren't you?" 

It was the 'l-word' that did it, but suddenly Zack was scooting out of the bed, wondering if he could make a run for it. "I don't know what you're talking about." He paused when she grabbed his good arm, and he watched as a grin spread across her face. 

"I'd stay in that bed if I were you. That gown doesn't have a back to it," and then she began to chuckle, leaving him completely bewildered. "So what did you do today to make her mad?" 

"I didn't do anything," he muttered with a shrug. "I just mentioned that I was leaving Seattle as soon as possible, and she left." _Okay, so he'd left out a few key details . . . _

The smile slid off Jondy's face. "You _what_?" Shaking her head, she rested her forehead in her hand for a moment, then raised her eyes to the ceiling. "My brother," she muttered, "a complete idiot." She turned her gaze back to him, making certain that her eyes met his. "She's in love with you, you know." 

He began to move out of the bed again, but reconsidered when he remembered what she'd said about the gown. "I don't know what you're talking about," he began, but his nervous swallow was a dead giveaway. She lowered her brow in confusion. 

"So what . . . you just let her leave?" She didn't know what kind of answer to expect from that. "Let me guess. It wouldn't fit either of your lifestyles. You're on the run from people who want to kill you. Right now, secret government agencies are plotting your death." 

He squared his shoulders. "Well, now that you mention it . . ." 

"And she doesn't live the same life?" 

"It's different." 

"How?" 

"It's not safe for her, okay?" 

"It's never safe for her. You don't change that one bit." 

"Dammit! I hurt her!" It came out more angrily than he'd intended, and Jondy paused at the force behind those words. 

"What? Her wrist?" His answer was only a glare in her direction. He could have kicked himself for opening his big mouth. Jondy merely chuckled and glanced down at his bandaged arm. 

"Call me crazy, but I think she can take you." He shook his head. 

"You don't understand. I can still hurt her." 

And Jondy didn't understand, she realized as she watched her brother. There was something there, some piece of the puzzle that was missing. Zack was protective of his siblings, too protective sometimes, but never once had he worried that he'd hurt any of them. He'd always been too busy protecting them. _Protecting us,_ she thought, and the last piece fell into place. 

"You're afraid to fail." 

"What?" 

"You aren't afraid that you'll hurt her. You're afraid that you'll fail to protect her. Or, more specifically, you're afraid to lose her, so it's easier to push her away." She shook her head. "I take it back. You're not a pigheaded jerk. You're a yellow-bellied coward and an imbecile. She's just as capable of taking care of herself as anyone, and, for the record, I'd still like to beat some sense into you." 

"Jondy, you don't know-" 

"Shut up," she said, but it was the softness of that command that got Zack's attention. Turning his head to stare at her, he found that her head was hung, her eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, she opened them. 

"Did you ever stop in to check on me just before I left L.A.?" Sensing that there was something big about to happen, he shook his head. "You never even saw Brian, did you?" Again he shook his head. He'd heard about Brian, certainly, but he'd been checking on Syl and Tinga when Brian had stepped into his sister's life. 

"No. I didn't know anything about it until I couldn't find you and went to see Zane. He told me where you were." He eyed her warily, not certain what she was about to say. 

A ghost of a smile crossed her face at the memory of Los Angeles sunrises. "I'm not going to lie and tell you that you would have liked him." Her gaze dropped to her hands, and she shrugged. "Knowing how jealous you always got with your sisters' boyfriends, you'd have hated him, but he was wonderful, and I was stupid." She raised her eyes from her hands to meet his gaze. "I went away because I was afraid to hurt him, because I was afraid that I'd lose him, and by the time I realized I loved him, it was too late. I never got to tell him. And I'll never forgive myself for that." Her eyes drifted away again, a sad smile touching her lips. "He was a wonderful man, and he would have been a wonderful father." Unconsciously, she hugged her stomach, as if the unborn child she'd lost so long ago was still there. Suddenly there were tears welling up at the backs of her eyelids, tears that she didn't want him to see, so she rose from the bed and turned toward the door, but it was too late, Zack had already seen them, and they were already hitting home. 

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to him for a moment. "This life is short, and you never know what's going to happen, _especially_ with lives like ours. You can't leave things undone, because if you mess something up, you may run out of time to fix it." Then she offered him a half-hearted smile, opened the door, and left him alone with his thoughts. 


	27. About Face

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

About Face

Hiding a grin, Sam Carr tried to ignore the curious set of whiskers peering out through the open zipper of the backpack leaning against the far wall and reached into the pocket of his lab coat for the small flashlight which he kept there.  He'd been watching those whiskers get steadily braver for the last five minutes, and allowing himself a moment's glance towards the blonde across the room, he wondered if Jondy knew that her little stow-away was making its presence known.  Flicking on the flashlight, he directed its beam into his patient's right eye and watched the pupil contract.  Satisfied by what he saw, he repocketed the flashlight.  There was no reason to check the other eye, he knew.  The ocular implant would react to the light as it was programmed to, with a perfect illusion of a contracting pupil, and that wouldn't tell him anything about his patient's condition.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pink nose begin to emerge behind the whiskers.

"The healing seems to be coming along," he noted as he pushed Zack's hair aside to study the strip of new skin on his forehead.  "I don't think there should be any lasting effects, especially with all of those nanocytes buzzing around in your system."  Stepping back, he eyed the bandaged arm which hung across Zack's chest in a sling, then reached for a folder on the counter behind him.  He studied its contents for a moment before walking over to take one last look at the x-rays which hung on a lighted board on the far wall.

"The breaks are healing rapidly," he noted, using a pen to point out the fractures on the slides, "but I'd leave your arm in that brace for the next few days, and use the sling as much as possible."  Turning back towards his patient, he stuck the pen back into his pocket and took a final glance at the papers on his clipboard.  "You'll want to be careful with your ribs too, stay away from heavy lifting and the like.  They'll probably be tender for a few days."

"Sure thing, doc."

Dr. Carr frowned down at his clipboard for a moment, then turned to the blonde across the room.  "Most of the releases should be over in fifteen or twenty minutes.  I'll let you know when the coast is clear."  Turning, he took a step towards the door, but paused as he lay a hand on the knob.

"Oh, and Jondy?  You might want to keep your cat out of sight."  He smiled inwardly at the surprise in her eyes, and watched as she threw an annoyed glance towards her backpack.  "No need to draw any extra attention on your way out, just in case."  Jondy chuckled as he offered her a shrug and a smile, and then the door closed behind him.  Shaking her head, she moved across the room and squatted down on her heels in front of the backpack.

"Milly?" A set of green eyes and a furry head popped up.  "We had a deal, mouse-breath.  You were supposed to stay out of sight."  Blinking innocently, Milly raised herself out of the backpack just enough to lay her front paws on Jondy's knees and offered her owner what had to be a strategically planned cute look.  Jondy narrowed her eyes and glared at the feline for a moment, then chuckled and scratched her behind the ears.  "There you go, playing all innocent and adorable."  She sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, as she reached down to lift the cat from her hiding place.

From his spot on the examination table, Zack struggled to get his shirt back on one-armed as he watched the two of them.  They were quite a pair, he mused, allowing himself a momentary pat-on-the-back.  Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea after all.  

Pulling the shirt over his head, he maneuvered his arm back into the sling and hopped down off the examination table.  Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he leaned back against a cabinet and prepared to wait until it was time to leave.  With a slight frown, he swept his gaze around the room, instinctively searching for any signs of danger, but some inborn sixth sense had already alerted him to the presence of someone at the window even before his eyes registered the same information.

There, standing in the hallway waiting for his release, stood Max.

She hadn't really spoken to him since they'd brought him here, and if he hadn't seen her passing by the window of his room every so often, he might have suspected that she was still angry at him; he supposed that she had every right to be.  Still, she'd come to check on him, even come and sat beside his bed briefly when he was slipping in and out of consciousness, though she had no clue that he'd known she was there.  Now, gazing through the glass at her, he could see not anger in her eyes, but a sort of questioning concern that threw him off-guard.  After everything he'd done, she was afraid that he was angry with her.  It startled him for a moment, but he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging look . . . and then his mind registered the presence of the man behind her, the man who was holding her hand.  _Logan._

He'd expected to feel anger, anger and that old familiar pain that seemed to gnaw at him whenever he saw them together, but as his gaze shifted to Logan's face, the emotion that flooded his senses was guilt.  He jerked his eyes away, turning his attention back to Jondy and the cat while he gathered his thoughts, and when he turned back to the window, they were gone.

Even though Logan had had numerous misgivings about what he was about to do, what he had just seen had squashed every one.  He knew that Zack wasn't too fond of him, that he wasn't exactly the president of the Eyes Only fan club, but there had been no mistaking the look in his eyes as he had turned away.  _Guilt.  Shame.  And more than a little self-hatred, Logan noted.  He knew what self-hatred looked like.  He'd seen it in the face in the mirror so many mornings after the shooting as he'd sat in his wheelchair gazing at the cripple on the other side of the glass._

"Logan, you really don't have to do this," Max said as she followed him down the hall.  She tried to cross her arms in front of her, but thought better of it when pain lanced through her shoulder with the movement.  Turning to look at her, he took a breath and paused mid-step, his exoskeleton making a slightly off-pitch whir as he stopped abruptly.  He reached for her hand.

Sure he'd had his own doubts about this, but he needed to make some sort of peace sooner or later, or at least try to.  He didn't have anything to fear from Zack, and even if he hadn't believed Jondy, what he'd just seen would have convinced him.

"Max, you can't take him home on your motorcycle."

She frowned.  "We could always call a cab," she suggested.

"We could," he agreed, "but my car's out in the parking lot.  It would just be a waste of money."  She sighed.  "Max, Jondy says he's okay."

"I know.  I just don't want you doing this if you don't feel comfortable with it."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  "I know.  Don't worry, Alec and Jondy volunteered to come along."

He watched the corner of her mouth tilt upward.  "In other words, the backseat will be so full that he wouldn't be able to move if he wanted to, right?"  

Logan chuckled.  "Well, that wasn't quite what I was thinking."  He turned to walk back down the hallway again, his hand still joined with hers.  "But I am okay with it.  And I promise not to yell 'Chinese fire drill,' okay?"  He chuckled again as Max lowered her brow and gave him a confused look.

"Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"What the hell is a Chinese fire drill?"

Zack frowned as Jondy led him out of the hospital and towards Logan's Aztek.  Part of him was surprised to see it running.  The last time he'd seen it, he'd pumped enough lead into it to make it look like one of the targets back on the firing range at Manticore.  He winced slightly as his eyes caught the signs of his last encounter with the car.  After everything he'd done to Logan, and now the guy was actually giving him a ride back to Max's apartment.

_Why?_

Zack frowned as he caught sight of Logan watching him cautiously from his place beside the driver's side door.  It occurred to him that maybe he owed Logan an apology of sorts, but the thought almost made him laugh.  What words could he honestly say to make Logan forget that he had tried to kill him . . . twice?  Nothing good came to mind, but something told him that Logan might at least appreciate the effort.  

"Logan," he began once he got into what he guessed was a normal human's hearing range.  He took a deep breath and swallowed his pride.  "Sorry about that . . . uh . . ." he trailed off searching for the right words, but found none.  "No hard feelings, huh?" he finished lamely.

"Uh, yeah," Logan responded, eyeing him suspiciously.

_Well, that went well, Zack thought sarcastically as he turned to walk around the car.  Hadn't he already warned himself about apologizing too much?  __Apologies change nothing, take nothing away, he chastised himself as he made his way to the passenger's side.  He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Max until he had almost run over her.  _

Zack froze in his tracks.  How would she respond to him now that they were face to face?  Would she hate him or ignore him?  Turn a cold shoulder or turn that fiery temper on him?  They stood there beside Logan's car for a moment, each eyeing the other nervously, and then, without a warning, she was in his arms, and he was trying his best to hug her with one arm in a sling and a ribcage full of bruises and stitches.

"Oh, great," Alec muttered from his place beside Jondy.  "Another cute family mom-ouch!" he finished lamely as Jondy's heel came crashing down on his toes.  He gave her a dirty look, but she only smiled at him sweetly. He scowled in return.  "It's getting too cute out here," he mumbled and climbed into the backseat.

"Hey big brother," Max muttered against the front of Zack's t-shirt.  "How're you feeling?"  She stepped back and gazed up at him, her smile shining in her eyes, and something in him broke.  Months ago, it might have been enough to see her beaming up at him like that, but now, somehow it just wasn't enough.  Looking down at the familiar curves of her face, he realized that part of him wanted her to be someone else, but he plastered a smile on his lips and assured her that he was feeling better as he accepted a hug from Jondy and waited for her to climb into the backseat of the car.  

What was wrong with him, he wondered?  Katya was gone.  He'd sent her away, and they were both the better for it.  She was probably out of Seattle by now, and he couldn't hurt her anymore.  It was better this way, he told himself, but the more he thought about her, the emptier he felt, and as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot and out onto the street, Jondy's words came back to him.

_You're in love with her, aren't you?_

And this time, as the terror gripped him, he realized that they were true.

The breath came out of his lungs in a "whoosh" that had Jondy's head snapping in his direction.  Sucking in oxygen, he turned his head to gaze out the window and tried to act as if his ribs were hurting him.  In reality, he couldn't even feel his ribs.  He couldn't feel a damned thing.

_In love with her . . . Jondy's words echoed again, and this time he managed to keep the oxygen in his lungs.  __Well, he thought, trying to take a stoic, logical approach,__ that explains a lot. But, of course, it didn't change anything.  She was still safer where he couldn't hurt her, and he'd still rather hurt from missing her than see her hurting.  It occurred to him suddenly that he'd give up anything if it would keep Katya safe, if it would keep Katya happy._

But she hadn't been happy the last time he'd seen her.  He'd hurt her, and he hated himself for it.

Sighing, he turned his head away from the window and found himself staring at the back of Max's head in the front seat.  His head spun again in confusion.  If he was in love with Katya, then what did he feel for Max?  He loved Max, didn't he?  But somehow it didn't feel the same, and though he knew he cared for Max, what he felt for Katya was tearing at him, ripping him to shreds in a way that his feelings for Max never had.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his temple against the side window and let his memories wander back to Manticore.  He tried to remember the first time he'd seen her, but somehow he couldn't.  It was if his photographic memory refused to acknowledge that she hadn't always been there.  Memories flowed over him, a sort of slideshow of Max's childhood.  _Max, barely four years old, standing in the training room as they'd taught them to march, her regulation gown just a tad too long for her little body as she raised her legs high and tried not to tread on the ends of it.  Max, at six, waking from a bad dream in the middle of the night and trying to keep her tears silent as she'd cried into her pillow.  Even though he'd known better, he'd slid silently from his bed and held her hand until the tears had subsided, until her tired eyes had slid closed and back into sleep.  And again, Max, older now, lying on the floor in the middle of a seizure when the guards had come, when he and Eva had fought them off to keep her safe . . . Sighing again, he opened his eyes to stare at the back of Max's head once more.  _

She'd been his favorite, he knew that now, but favoritism had been forbidden at Manticore, so he had simply refused to label it as such.  He had been the C.O. and it had been his job to look out for the little ones.  That was the excuse he'd always given himself for protecting her, for looking out for her while he left the others to take care of themselves.

But looking at the woman she'd grown into, he couldn't see that little girl anymore.

When he'd found her here, in Seattle, he'd been amazed at the woman she'd become.  The little girl he'd been searching for was gone, and in her place was a strong and beautiful woman with a kiss-my-ass attitude that brought a smile to his lips whenever he thought about it.

_Please tell me you're not one of those people. Because a raindrop fell in the ocean 10,000 years ago and a butterfly farted in India, you and I are sitting right here right now enjoying a cup of coffee that tastes like goat piss. _

_Anything's possible._

_Unravel this mystery, grasshopper.  What is the sound of one hand hitting you upside your head, hmm? _

He chuckled at the memory, not noticing when Jondy slid a curious eye in his direction.  He couldn't help but love some of Max's smart-ass remarks.  They were, in many ways, so much like some of Katya's that he had to wonder if the attitude_ was genetic.  He loved some of the things Katya could come up with, and he loved the way her eyes sparkled when she got aggravated, the way she lifted one corner of her mouth sometimes after telling someone just what she thought.  Something about that sparkle in her eye was so sexy._

So why was that attitude so sexy on Katya, but not on Max?

Max?  Sexy?  Now that was a strange thought.

She was, he supposed, but it was still strange to apply that term to the woman sitting in the front seat.  Sure, she was beautiful, and she had a great body, but why was it suddenly so strange to think about those things?  And even the thought of kissing her seemed strange to-

_Oh, God, he thought as the last bit of memory clicked back into place.  He'd tried to kiss her once, all those months ago when he'd broken in to rescue her from the Steelheads.  He could remember telling her he loved her, trying to kiss her, and the muddled cloudiness of his weary mind.  Now, it all just seemed strange._

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't in love with Max, and the more he thought about it, the more and more he believed it.  Somehow, it didn't hurt as much as he would have expected.  It was the perfect explanation for the fact that the thought of Max didn't turn his insides out like the thought of Katya did.  Shaking his head slightly, his eyes fell on Logan, and a new thought entered his mind.  What about the two of them?

He was in love with Katya.  The thought still felt strange, but there was a sort of elation that went with it, and then a wrenching twinge of sadness that she was gone.  What about Max, did she feel the same about Logan?  That thought immediately made him want to bash Logan's brains in, but he pushed back the tide of jealousy and let himself ponder it for a moment.  He hadn't thought much about the lie they had told him, how they'd made up a life for him and hidden him on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.  He'd been too plagued with guilt by his own actions to know how to react to that, but what if the thought of losing Logan was just as terrifying for Max as the thought of losing Katya was to him?  Maybe then he could understand why Max had done what she'd done.  She could have done a lot worse than Buddy, really, come to think of it.  And, in the end, hadn't she been trying to protect Logan from Manticore?  Isn't that what he'd spent _his life doing for his siblings?  Only this time,__ he had been Manticore, __he had been the threat, and she'd done the only thing she'd known to do.  He shook his head.  Hadn't she realized that he would eventually remember?  That he might come back and start the whole thing over again?  Of course, she had, he realized, but she hadn't wanted to lose either one of them, and she hadn't completely sacrificed him for Logan, had she?  She cared about them both, that he knew, but that also meant that he wasn't the most important man in her life, not anymore, and that drove him nuts.  _

What had Jondy said about Brian?  _I'm not going to lie and tell you that you would have liked him . . . knowing how jealous you always got with your sisters' boyfriends, you'd have hated him . . . _

_Jealous?  Certainly not jealous.  They were his unit.  He'd only been looking out for them, that was all.  He hadn't been jealous of Charlie Smith, not really.  It was just that Tinga had taken too many risks, had dared to have a family, and he'd known it would get her into trouble, that Charlie would eventually get her into trouble._

But, in the end, hadn't he been the one who had exposed her?

He closed his eyes against the memory and tried to think back beyond it.  How many nights had he hidden outside her window and watched them tuck Case into bed?  How many nights had he watched his sister and her husband curl up on the sofa and fall asleep to some old movie on the television?  And every time, as he'd balanced on that ledge outside of their apartment, hadn't he called her ten kinds of a fool for doing what she was doing?

But the honest truth was that he was jealous.

Tinga hadn't been stupid, he realized now.  She'd been brave.  She'd had the guts to stand up to the world, decide what she wanted and go for it, whether Manticore was looking or not.  She hadn't hid in the shadows from secret government agencies that went bump in the night.  She'd taken a stand and made a life for herself, and he'd been jealous because somewhere, buried so deep down inside that he hadn't known the desire was there, he wanted the same thing himself.  The realization shook him to the core.

Jondy had tried to take that step with Brian, and Max was contemplating it with Logan.  It was quite possible that his sisters had more balls than he did.  The irony made him smile bitterly as he glanced at Jondy out of the corner of his eye.  Maybe Jondy was the strongest of them all.

Jondy was a nurturer.  She and Eva had been the ones to soothe nightmares and comfort bruises and broken bones, and while Jondy had been comforting Max, Eva had died protecting her.  After the escape, he'd followed Jondy from city to city, watching her grow from a little girl into a gangly teenager, and from a gangly teenager into a beautiful young woman.  All the while, as he'd watched her grow, he'd worried.  The mothering instinct had always been strong in her, too strong for their lifestyles, and he'd often worried that Jondy would repeat Tinga's mistakes.  Glancing at her again, his gaze fell to her lap where Milly was dozing contentedly, and he let his mind wander to the dark and lonely night when he'd first seen the cat.

It had been raining, and the streets of L.A. had been flooded with the homeless and hungry.  He'd been riding his motorcycle down an alleyway, trying to take a shortcut back to Zane's when the little black shadow had darted across the alley in front of him and almost caused him to wreck his bike to keep from hitting it.  To be honest, if he hadn't been able to see in the dark, he probably never would have seen her in time, but as he paused to check his motorcycle for damage, some little voice that he hadn't quite understood had made him leave his bike and search the heaps of garbage along the alley's edge.  He'd found her, drenched and trembling, beneath a pile of cardboard boxes, and the thought had struck him that maybe this was the answer.  He'd worried that Jondy might just act on her nurturing instincts, forget that she was a soldier on the run and try to settle down.  Well, if Jondy wanted to nurture something, maybe he should give her something to take care of.  And so he'd wrapped the kitten up in a tattered blanket, placed it in a battered cardboard box, and left it outside Jondy's apartment door.  To this day she had no idea where the cat had come from, and he had no intention of telling her.  She probably wouldn't believe him anyway.

But it hadn't worked as he'd planned, he realized.  She'd still fallen for Brian, and if he hadn't been gunned down, heaven only knew how many nieces or nephews he might have by now, but the thought saddened him.  He could still remember the look in Jondy's eyes as she'd sat on the corner of his hospital bed.  

_I went away because I was afraid to hurt him, because I was afraid that I'd lose him, and by the time I realized I loved him, it was too late . . . _

Zack felt his stomach clinch.  He understood what she'd done now, what she'd denied herself for fear of losing it all together, and as he looked over at her now, it was with a renewed appreciation for her strength.  He didn't want to imagine losing Katya, but Jondy had lived through her own loss and come out again on the other side.  God knew missing Katya now was ripping him apart.

 _This life is short, Jondy's voice echoed in his mind, __and you never know what's going to happen, especially with lives like ours.  You can't leave things undone, because if you mess something up, you may run out of time to fix it._

He'd hurt her, Zack thought, he'd hurt her because he'd lied to her, sent her away and left her thinking that he hated her for what he'd forced her to do.  Even if they couldn't be together, didn't he at least owe her the truth?  

"I have to go . . ." The words came out of his mouth before he realized he'd said them, and in the tense silence of the car, three sets of eyes turned to stare at him.  If he'd glanced up, he would have seen a fourth set reflected in the rear view mirror.  Turning to look out the windshield, he tried to remember where they were in Seattle.

"Logan, can you drop me off somewhere?  There's something I've got to do."  Beside him, he saw a smile cross Jondy's lips, but he paid it no mind.  

Logan seemed to ponder this for a moment, then cautiously asked, "where?"

"I'll give you directions," Zack said, wondering if he'd lost his mind, "just take a left at the next light."


	28. That's Life

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

That's Life

She didn't know why she'd come here, she realized as she gazed out over the water as the sun made its journey westward.  Had she been trying to hold on to something that was slipping through her fingers?  To find some memory of happiness amidst the pain?  Whatever it was, it wasn't working.  She was lying to herself, and just being here made the ache more intense. 

Releasing a sigh, Katya gazed dumbly down at the pebble in her hand.  She'd seen him throw pebbles out into the water once.  Maybe that was why she'd picked it up, with the intention of doing the same thing, but even the thought of that memory made the ache swell in her chest and rise up her throat like bile.  Swallowing it back down, she opened her fingers and watched as the pebble slipped through them, bounced off the weathered wood of the dock, and vanished into the water below with a soft _plop. _

_What doesn't kill you will only make you stronger.  The words came to mind, and she wondered for a moment if she were trying to force herself to face it all at once, to meet the pain, defeat it, and banish it to some dark corner of her soul were she wouldn't have to think of it with every breath.  But she knew that it wouldn't work that way._

Off in the distance, she could hear her siblings talking, and while she could have focused and tuned her sensitive hearing to their conversation, she just didn't feel like making the effort.  If they'd thought she was crazy for wanting to come here, for making them take this one small stop on their way out of Seattle, they hadn't shown it, but she knew she hadn't exactly been herself lately.  Maybe they'd come to expect her little eccentricities.  To be honest, she hurt so much at the moment that she just didn't care.

A seagull called, but she didn't hear it.  Some well-trained part of her brain picked up on the sound, even though she was oblivious to it, analyzed it, decided that it wasn't a threat, and ignored it, and it wasn't until the bird flew down low over the gentle waves where she and Zack had splashed like children that she even realized that it was there.  Tears welled up in her eyes once again, and she cursed herself for coming here, for tormenting herself with bittersweet memories.

_What are you doing here? she asked herself, but this time she could admit that she was trying to hold on to something that she couldn't have.  All Zack would let her have were the memories, and in coming here she was trying to hold on to them with both hands, but the memories were intangible.  She wanted to hold on to the man, and the memories were slipping through her fingers.  The dock she stood on now and the afternoon they had spent here were shadows in her mind, and she was only hurting herself more by being here._

"Just go," she told herself as she took one last look.  Maybe they'd go to Iowa, she thought.  Somewhere in the Midwest would be nice, somewhere with no docks, no shorelines, and no memories.  Closing her eyes against the view before them, she turned to go.

The scent of him slammed into her before her ears even registered the sounds of his footsteps, and for a moment, she thought that she was losing her mind, but when he emerged from behind a pile of boxes stacked against a chain link fence, she knew she couldn't be dreaming.  No dream would have survived the stabbing pain in her chest.

He hadn't expected her to be here.  When he'd directed Logan to this place, he'd expected to find it deserted, but he'd needed to come here anyway, to stand on the dock and remember, and maybe to make himself hurt a little more.  God knew he deserved to, but as he rounded the corner and saw her standing there, he froze in place.  It was all he could do not to turn around and run.  Or fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness.  He couldn't decide which impulse was stronger.  In the end he did neither.

Her first expression was one of shock and of fear, and Zack had no way of knowing that she was fighting off the impulse to turn and run as well, but she covered it over, rather well she thought, and stood her ground as they faced each other.  

He looked good, she had to admit.  Save the sling on his arm, no one would have ever imagined the condition he'd been in such a short time ago, but she couldn't let the relief show on her face, she wouldn't let it show, and stood, arms crossed in front of her, trying to look as though she hadn't a care in the world.

Katya recognized this scene.  Hadn't they stood like this before?  Back in the barn at the ranch when she'd come to see him after their first encounter?  It seemed like a lifetime ago.  The air had been just as heavy then, the situation just as tense, though now it was layered in a sort of sadness that hadn't been there before.  She'd spoken first then, that pitiful little _"hi" that had started it all, but "hi" wouldn't do here.  It was over now, and she wouldn't sacrifice her pride by letting him know how much she was hurting.  Her pride was all she had, what little of it there was left._

She watched as he took a breath, his eyes moving down to the dock at his feet for a moment before he spoke.  "I'm sorry.  I . . . uh . . . I didn't know you were here."  He cursed himself as he spoke the words.  The impulse to throw himself at her feet was starting to win.  He watched as she took a rather shaky breath, then a step forward, and another as she moved to walk past him.  

"Goodbye," she said, her eyes never meeting his as she pushed her way past him.  It surprised the both of them when his right hand shot out to grab her by the arm.

"Wait, Katya."  She could feel the heat of his hand running down her arm.  She felt the tingling in her toes, in the fingers of her other hand, and she trembled slightly and prayed that he wouldn't notice.  She wished he would go away, leave her alone, and let her hurt in peace.

Zack winced when he felt her tremble.  He'd hurt her in a hundred different ways, and he couldn't blame her for being a little repulsed by him.  It would be such a little move, he knew, to let go of her arm and slide his hand along her shoulders, to pull her against him, bury his face in her hair and tell her everything.  If he told her he loved her, if he told her why he had to do this, maybe then she wouldn't hurt so much, but no, he knew better.  He couldn't tell her how he felt.  He didn't deserve her, and nothing would change that, but he couldn't seem to let go of her arm.

"What?" she asked after a moment, trying to sound annoyed.  She didn't trust herself to look at him, so she kept her gaze firmly riveted on a trashcan twenty feet away.

"Good luck," he said finally as he reluctantly released her arm.

"Good luck," she muttered back as she began to walk away.  She wouldn't turn back to look at him.  If she did, she would surely burst into tears.  Not that she thought he would care.

And then she heard it, Zack's relieved sigh, and something snapped in her.  Here she was, hurting worse than she'd ever hurt in her life, and he was relieved to be rid of her.  _Relieved?  She could almost hear the blood boiling in her ears as she turned on him._

"Good luck? You unfeeling bastard."

"Wh-What?"  He'd been watching her walk away, glad that she would be safe from him.  He'd been trying to savor his last sight of her and reveling in the pain of it, pain that he knew he deserved, but her angry outburst surprised him.  He remained speechless as she stalked back to him and cocked her head to the side angrily.

"You are the greatest asshole to ever walk the face of the earth, do you know that?"  He stared at her dumbly, and Katya allowed herself a moment of satisfaction for catching him off guard.  "Do you treat everyone this way?" she stormed on, wondering if she should give in to the urge to plant her fist right in the center of that bewildered face.  "Do you just send them away as soon as you don't have a use for them anymore?"

_Oh God, he'd hurt her again.  Would it ever stop?  It seemed as if he did something to cause her pain every time he breathed.  He took a fortifying breath.  It would have been easier if he would have told her the truth to start off with.  "It's not like that, Katya.  I'm just going to keep on hurting you if you don't go."  He was too ashamed to look her in the eye, so he let his gaze drift down to the dirt at her feet._

She'd been expecting him to yell, to argue back, and the fact that he didn't only angered her more.  The man was a complete, screwed up mystery.  "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You have to go.  If you don't go, I'll just keep hurting you."

"Hey guys," Tanya beamed as she and Sergei leaned back against the Aztek, "whatcha doing?"

"Enjoying the show," Jondy chuckled as Mikhail leaned over to give the cat in her arms an affectionate pat.  "Those two are at it again."

Beside her, Alec merely rolled his eyes.  He was trying to act annoyed, and doing a rather good job of it, he was sure, but to tell the truth, he didn't mind a little romance.  He was almost used to Max and Logan making eyes at each other, but now it seemed to be coming at him from all sides.  People were pairing off left and right, and every time he turned around, something reminded him of Rachel.  It made him more than a little bitter, and that old pain kept rising to the surface, refusing to let him be.

"Don't you guys think we should give them some privacy?" he asked, trying to look bored.  Six pairs of eyes turned towards him.

"No," Jondy shrugged.  "Why would we do that?" she asked innocently, a smile breaking out onto her face as she turned back to the two people arguing no more than sixty feet away.  From his place near the front bumper, Logan chuckled.

"I'm still not with you," Katya replied in annoyance, completely oblivious to the existence of their very interested audience.  Zack must have hit his head harder than they'd thought, she decided.  He wasn't making a bit of sense.

Releasing a frustrated sigh, he ran his right hand over his face, pressing two fingers against his eyes in an attempt to clear his thoughts.  She was angry, and she was hurting, and he had to make her understand.  Dropping his hand, he reached down to grasp her right hand gently with his own, massaging the back of it with his thumb as he studied the elastic bandage still wrapped firmly around her wrist.

"This," he said simply, holding her own hand in front of her as evidence.  "This and a million other things that are infinitely worse."  She frowned at him for a moment.

"Okay, let me get this straight.  You're being a jackass to me because you're afraid you're going to sprain my wrist again?" she asked skeptically, wondering how long it would take to get him back to the hospital, preferably to the psycho ward.  

"Yes," he began.  "No." He shook his head in frustration.  "Oh, you know what I mean."  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go.  "You know what Manticore did to me.  When they couldn't get to the people around me, they used me to get to them."  He turned away from her and took several steps towards the water.  "I can't risk that again, Katya."

She saw the slump of his shoulders, heard the catch in his voice, and suddenly all the anger melted right out of her.  He was afraid of hurting her, and as silly as it was, she felt a little flutter of hope.  She took a step towards him.

"You're afraid you're going to hurt me?"

"Yes," he said, not turning to meet her.  "Haven't I already?"

"Zack," she began, but paused a moment to collect her thoughts.  "You can't spend your life running every time you're afraid of something."  

"No?" he asked as he turned to glance over his shoulder at her.  He raised his eyebrow in an attempt at humor, but she was too caught by the sadness in his eyes to feel it.  

They'd spent one winter in New York City, Katya remembered, and one night around Christmastime, she'd passed a little boy gazing through the window of a toyshop at the electric train which wound its way through a miniature village in the display.  His clothes had been clean, she remembered, and the coat he wore had been faded, but warm.  He was well-fed and well-clothed, but there'd been a longing in him that told her what money his family had went towards food and clothing, and the little extras that his parents might have expected at his age had been ignored because of necessity.  Something about him had tugged at her, and she'd stood there and watched him until his mother had come out of the second-hand clothing store next to the toyshop and led him away, her voice bouncing into a merry rendition of _Jingle Bells as she'd tried to distract her son from the train in the window.  As they walked away, the little boy had glanced back for a moment, his eyes taking one last look at his heart's desire, at the toy he wanted so desperately, yet knew that he couldn't have._

And it was that same expression that shone back at her through Zack's eyes now.  Her heart almost skipped a beat.

"No," she responded.  "You can't."

Turning his head once again, he gazed out over the water.  "Katya, you don't understand."  He shook his head once more, and she took another step to stop beside of him.  "Everything and everyone I've ever cared for, I've lost at one time or another.  Some of them, I've lost forever."

"And that's why you're trying to send me away?  Because you think you're responsible?"  He shrugged and kept his eyes fastened out over the water as the warm glow of the sun grew ever closer to the horizon.  "Because you're afraid you're going to lose me?"  He gave no response to her last question, and Katya felt her heart rise into her throat.  Zack was terrified of losing her because he cared.  The thought made her almost giddy.  There was still hope, she realized, and she wasn't going to let him have his way, not this time.

Taking a breath, Katya made her decision.  Stepping around in front of him, she turned to face him and lay both hands on his chest.  She held back a satisfied smile as she felt his heart quicken beneath her palms and gazed up at him with determination.  "No," she said simply.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused.  She was making this harder than he'd thought she would.  Every second she stayed made the moment when she finally left seem all the more painful.

"No," she repeated, this time more firmly.  "I'm sorry to disrupt your plans, but I'm not going anywhere."  He blinked at her for a moment as the words soaked in.  Shaking his head, he took a step backwards, but she only followed.  He reached up to take one hand from his chest, but when he released it to remove the other, she reached up to lay it on his cheek, angling his face so that his eyes met hers directly and spoke again.  "No," she repeated again, shaking her head.  "I'm not letting you get rid of me."

Sighing, he shook his head and reached up to move her hand from his face, but it only ended up back on his chest.  "Katya . . . " he trailed off, not quite sure what to say.  "I can't lose you."  It came out as a whispered plea, and it was all she could do to keep from grinning from ear to ear.  She was wearing him down.

"Oh, but you'll send me away instead.  That's ingenious."  

"I'll only hurt you, Katya."

"You know?  You're starting to sound like a scratched CD."

"Please . . ."

"No," came her response.  "What are you going to do about it?  Run away?"  She smiled slightly.  "I hate to tell you, but I'll be right on your heels.  And don't even think about beating me up," she said, a joking tone to her voice as she traced a finger over his lips.  "I think we've already proven that I can take you."

Zack sighed and shook his head.  "Why are you making this so hard, Katya?" he asked as his hand raised, unbidden, to cover her left hand which rested on his chest.  He'd have given anything to be wrong about this, anything in the world, and right now, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.  But that wasn't an option.

"You are so used to making decisions, aren't you?" she asked.  "To giving orders and expecting them to be followed?"

He frowned.  Yes, he was, but this didn't have anything to do with that . . . did it?

"Well, as a C.O. myself, I don't take very well to other people making my decisions."

He frowned.  "So?"

"So, you haven't asked me what I think about the situation.  Maybe I have a plan of my own."  She was toying with him, and he knew it, but somehow he couldn't resist.

"Fine, what do you think?" he asked, annoyance in his tone.  He watched as the nervous smile crossed her lips, and she slid her hands up to his shoulders.  Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and made the biggest gamble of her life.

"That I'm in love with you."

His jaw dropped open, or rather it would have if her lips hadn't covered his the moment the words left her mouth.  She put everything she had into the kiss, all of her hopes, all of her fears, every dream she'd ever had in her life, and she almost sobbed with relief when she felt him kissing her back.  She would win him, she vowed, or she would spend her life following him until he gave in.

With a muffled groan, he pulled her towards him with his good arm and held on for dear life.  Somewhere in the distance he could have sworn that he heard the sound of claps and cheers, but the thought flew right out of his mind with everything else.  All he knew was that he needed her.  He needed her, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.  In helpless frustration, he pulled away and buried his face in her hair as his mind spun in circles.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."  He pulled her closer as he felt her arms tighten around him.  "I'm sorry.  I never meant to hurt you."  And never once did the little voice try to tell him that his apology was a wasted effort or a sign of weakness.

_Pride be damned, Katya thought as she swallowed back tears.  "Please, Zack, don't go," she whispered against his ear.  "You say you don't want to hurt me, but if you leave me now, I swear to God that I'll die inside."_

It was the sound of tears in her voice that caught him, even before her words had sunken in, and when he pulled away to gaze down at her, he saw them pooling in her eyes.  "Oh God, I did it again.  I'm sorry, Katya."  And somehow she managed to laugh through her tears.

"You silly ass," she said as she leaned up to kiss the healing skin on his forehead, and when she pulled away, they merely stood staring at each other for a moment.  Then he lifted his hand to caress her cheek, his eyes catching her gaze and holding it.

"I am so scared of losing you," he finally said.  He could feel her trembling now, and he wasn't quite sure that he wasn't doing a little of it himself.  He took a steadying breath before he continued, his eyes never leaving hers.  "Everything I've ever loved I've lost, but I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Smiling slightly, she lifted a hand to his face, and he turned his head for a moment to lay a gentle kiss in her palm.  "That's life, Zack.  That's life for everybody.  Not just for you, or for me, or for anybody ever born with a barcode or a serial number.  It's the brave people who take one look at the obstacles in their lives and decide to keep on living regardless.  If you let fears and challenges make your decisions for you, then your life isn't your own anymore.  You have to make the best of what time you have.  Maybe that's truer for us than for everybody else."

He thought of his sisters.  "I'm starting to realize that now," he admitted as a small smile crept over his features.  Leaning over, he brushed a kiss over her lips and took a deep breath.  They hadn't taught him about this at Manticore, no indeed, but he was riding on instinct now, and he knew what he had to do next.  He pulled back slightly, not because he didn't want her near him, but because he wanted to see her face.  His stomach was going in circles, twisting, and tying in knots, and somehow, he'd never felt so wonderful in his entire life.  He smiled down at her, his gaze searching her face for a heartbeat before they came to rest on her eyes.

"I love you, Katya."  

He watched as her eyes went misty all over again before he leaned down to kiss her.  Tightening his arms, he tried to pull her closer, then swore abruptly and pulled away when he put too much pressure on his injured ribs.  They stared at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter as they realized what had happened.  Leaning over, he wrapped his arm around her once more, this time being careful of his ribs, and swung her in a little circle before setting her down again on her feet, and this time, when his lips met hers, neither one of them noticed the sounds coming from their enthusiastic audience.

Smiling lightly, Jondy reached into the pocket of her jeans with her spare hand, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to Tanya, who promptly passed it down to Sergei, who insisted that he was "fine."  Glancing in the other direction, she saw that Max was leaning back into Logan's arms, and she thought better of asking if it was time to go just yet.  Beside her, she saw Alec roll his eyes.

She nudged him gently in the ribs.  "What's the matter, Alec, too much romance for one night?"

"I'm just afraid they're going to get more affectionate than they are right now," he grumbled.  "There are some things that I just don't want to see."  Glancing behind him, he caught sight of Max and Logan and jerked his thumb in their general direction.  "Case in point."

"Oh, come on, don't you want a little kiss, too?"  He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then slid a few inches closer.

"Depends on who's offering," he said with a grin.

With a wicked gleam in her eye, Jondy leaned over and plopped Milly right into his arms.  The cat gazed up at him in adoration, but she didn't get any closer than that before Alec handed her back and escaped by getting into the car.

"Suit yourself," Jondy said with a smile as she heard the 44's laughing behind her.  

Sighing, she scratched Milly's head and turned to glance back at Zack and Katya.  They were, she noticed with a smile, still oblivious to the world.  Behind them, the sun was rapidly making its way towards the horizon, and she frowned for a moment.  She hadn't realized that it was so late, and she had an appointment to keep, one that she'd broken for the last few days.  

Glancing over at Max and Logan, she saw that they were already getting into the car, so she turned to say her "goodbyes" to the 44's and followed suit.  _A happy ending, she thought to herself as Logan pulled out onto the street, and somehow it stung a little bit as she glanced back out the window for one last view of Zack and Katya.  Sighing, she turned to face forward and looked ahead towards the Space Needle as it grew larger in the distance.  Logan knew where she wanted to go, knew where she went every night that she was in Seattle because he'd given her a ride there a few times in the past.  And for a moment she was glad that she didn't even have to ask him to take her there. _


	29. Someone Else's Happy Ending

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Someone Else's Happy Ending

From her place atop the Space Needle, Jondy gazed down through the darkness at the city below.  Somewhere down there, echoes of laughter pealed in the night breeze, and her sensitive ears could pick up the rumblings of a heated argument somewhere on the streets below.  Through some distant open window, a baby's cries flowed out to her through the night, followed by the melody of a mother's soothing lullaby.  These were the sounds of life, the sounds of joy and of sorrow, of love and of hate, and somehow, they made her feel all the emptier.

Somewhere out there in the night, Zack and Katya were getting their happy ending, and Max and Logan as well, and to be completely honest, a part of her hated them for it.  

Taking a deep breath, she hugged her knees against her chest and gazed skyward, but not a single star twinkled out through the dark sky above, and she released the breath in a sigh as her gaze fell back to the city below.

She'd made it here this evening just in time for the sunset, but as she'd watched the sun disappear below the horizon, all she'd felt was emptiness.  There'd been a time, long ago, when she'd avoided sunrise for that very reason, because it had reminded her of Brian and brought with it every lingering whisper of guilt that she'd ever carried over his death.  She'd learned to watch the sun rise since then, to remember the good times with Brian, but somehow she felt more comfortable with sunset.  She'd forgiven herself for whatever miniscule and unintentional part she may have played in the events leading up to his death, but tonight none of that seemed to matter.  Suddenly she was surrounded by everyone else's happy endings, and it made her miss him more than she had in a long time.

She'd gotten through his death.  She'd gone through the pain of losing him and the pain of losing their child, and she'd come out on the other side, but she was strongly aware of the fact that she'd left a lot of herself behind.  She still had nightmares every so often, horrible dreams where she relived every second of the day she'd returned to tell him she loved him, but ended up watching him die instead.  Over and over again, she awoke in Zane's apartment, wrapped in bandages, and learned the horrible truth that she'd lost not only Brian, but the only piece of him that she had left, as well, the only child she would ever carry.  

Almost unconsciously, she pushed her knees away from her chest and wrapped her arms around her abdomen.  It was something that she didn't think about often, mostly because she wouldn't let herself.  A female X5's reproductive system was a bewildering mix of human reproductive cycles mixed with feline hormones, but it had become painfully obvious after the shooting that something had gone terribly wrong.  At first she'd tried to delude herself with the hope that they were wrong, that maybe she really _hadn't lost Brian's baby, but she'd known the truth deep down inside.  She'd stood in front of her bathroom mirror every morning for months, watching as the scars faded away, all the while hoping that whatever damage had been done within her would heal as well, but month after month had passed by with no change.  Eventually, she'd done something she'd never done before, never even imagined that she'd do: she'd anxiously waited for herself to go into heat, prayed that she would, and she'd been heartbroken when she hadn't.  _

But that was life.  _You have to take the good with the bad, Jondy told herself for the one millionth time, calling the memory of Brian's face before her eyes.  Maybe it hadn't ended so beautifully, but she didn't want to imagine what her life would have been like if she'd never met Brian.  He'd brought more joy into her life in the short time they'd had than she could have ever imagined possible, and he'd changed her, for the better.  Brian had shown her that there was more to life than just running and trying to stay out of sight.  She couldn't help but wonder if the same were true of Max and Logan._

Maybe it was somehow fitting that she'd never have another child, she thought to herself.  Somehow, the thought of carrying any other man's child left her feeling out of sorts, as if she were dreaming of living someone else's life and trying to settle for someone else's happy ending.

Sighing, she drew her knees into her chest once more and let her thoughts wander.  She didn't really hate Max or Zack for their own happy endings.  To be completely honest, she was just jealous.  It wasn't as if she would ever wish ill towards them because of it, it just seemed . . . unbalanced.  Suddenly she was fighting back the urge to turn her head towards the dark sky and scream at the top of her lungs.  _What about me, dammit?  What about me? Instead she lowered her head and rested her chin on her knees._

"Two years," she mumbled to herself.  "Two years he's been gone.  Why am I still in love with him?"  Still, no answer came, so she hugged her knees tightly against her chest and watched the paths of the car lights as they wound through the streets down below.

_I like to come up here and watch them, Max had said all those months ago when she'd first brought Jondy here__.  After a while, you start to feel like you're one of them, just another regular person, with another regular life.  Jondy wondered for a moment why that had never seemed to work for her.  Maybe it was just too hard for her to dream.  She'd had so many of her dreams broken and scattered to the winds that sometimes she was afraid to have any more._

The shuffling sounds of footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and, instinctively bracing herself, she turned to glance back towards the broken windows behind her, immediately relaxing when she identified her visitor.

"Hey," she said, slightly suspicious.

"Hey," Alec returned as he took a seat beside of her.  "I thought this was Max's spot?  I see her up here sometimes at night."

"It is," Jondy answered, still eyeing him suspiciously.  "But it's mine too, whenever I'm in Seattle."  She watched as he nodded his head and then turned to gaze out over the city.  

"Quite a view from up here."

"Yeah, it is," she responded, half wishing he would go away and leave her to her thoughts, but there was a part of her that just didn't want to be alone.  She took a deep breath, expecting him to say more and trying not to look annoyed, but he remained silent as he surveyed the city below.

He hadn't intended to interrupt her, but he hadn't exactly wanted to be alone, either.  He'd left the three 44s back at Crash to celebrate their sister's little romance without him.  He wasn't really in the mood to celebrate, not when he'd been thinking about Rachel all night, and when Tanya had stopped flirting with every guy in the room and settled on the new bartender, he had decided it was time to go.  Still, the prospect of going home to his empty apartment had been too gloomy, and he hadn't really known where his wandering feet had been taking him until he'd found himself down at the base of the Space Needle, looking up at Jondy from below.  Frowning, he remembered what she'd been saying to herself when he'd arrived.  It seemed they had more in common than either of them may have realized.

"So," he began, a cocky grin lighting his lips, "what do you think Max and Logan and Zack and Katya are up to?"  The look she threw him could have melted steel.

"They're probably doing the laundry," she replied sarcastically, and he had to struggle to hide his grin.

"Somehow I doubt it."  He paused for a moment.  "Well, Zack and Katya are a given.  I mean, injured or not, Katya doesn't seem like the sort of woman to let a few broken bones get in her way."  Muffling a groan, Jondy contemplated shoving him over the edge.

"Now Max and Logan, they're harder to predict.  Knowing Logan, he'll probably be all gentlemanly, you know.  I mean, she has been shot, and you know Logan . . ." Jondy rolled her eyes.

"You know, I generally have better things to do than to sit around trying to imagine other people's sex lives," she muttered. 

"Me, too," he replied, "but seeing as I don't have one of my own right now . . ."

With that, Jondy shook her head and rose to leave.  She really wasn't in the mood for this, not now, but as she began to walk away, Alec surprised her.

"I really do worry about those two, you know.  They've been dancing around each other for what?  Almost two years?"  Freezing in her tracks, she turned to look back at him and found herself caught off-guard by the honesty in his face.  The cocky attitude seemed to have vanished into the darkness of the night around them.  "Seems like every time they get a chance to straighten it out, something happens, and they lose it.  And then you don't know whether to sympathize with them or choke them because they dragged their feet just a little too long and lost their chance."

Cocking her head to the side, Jondy turned to face him and took a step forward, all the while studying his features for the key to understanding the man in front of her, and suddenly she understood.

"How much of you is real?" she asked, "and how much of you is just for show?"

"Too much," he answered cryptically as he turned to gaze back out over the city.  She stared at his back, trying to decide what to make of him, and she was still staring at him a moment later when he stood.

"And no, I don't know why," he said quietly, still facing the lights of Seattle.

"Why what?" she asked, bewildered.

"Why you're still in love with him," he answered, and he turned to face her.  He watched as the blood drained out of her face, and then braced himself as the anger took its place.

"You were eavesdropping, you little-"

"Now, hold on a second," he began, raising his hands in front of him in surrender.  "It wasn't intentional.  I can't help it if you talk to yourself when other people are around."  Lowering his hands, took a step forward.  "Truth is, I probably would have just turned around and left before you even knew I was here," he confessed, "except that I know the feeling."  She watched as the pain flickered across his face for a moment before he looked away.  It was that expression that did it, that look of silent agony and the way he had tried to hide it.

She took a deep breath, wondering if she'd lost her mind even as she opened her mouth.  "I was thinking that I might head over to Crash for a beer," she began, choosing her words carefully.  "You can come with me if you'd like.  Maybe we can swap sad stories."  Smiling faintly, he nodded.

"Sure, why not?"

Somewhere on the other side of Seattle, he awoke from his dreams and looked down at the woman snuggled up beside of him.  It was still a little strange, he realized, and it made him more than a little giddy to think of everything that had happened in a few short weeks.

Leaning over carefully, he brushed his lips across Katya's forehead, smiling when she snuggled a little closer in sleep.  He wanted to roll over and pull her against him and wake her up all over again, but he was having enough trouble finding a way to hold her as she slept without bumping a broken rib or jarring a broken arm, so he settled for watching her sleep.  She was so beautiful that it took his breath away.

_X5-599, commanding officer of his own unit, lying in bed and watching a woman sleep.  The thought almost made him laugh, not at the irony of what he was doing, but at the person he used to be._

Looking back now, it was all startlingly clear.  He'd spent his life being Zack, being X5-599, the X5 in charge of his own unit, the escaped genetically engineered marvel who had made it his mission to protect his siblings from the ever present danger of Manticore.  He'd subverted his own wants and needs, convincing himself that it was his duty to do so because it was necessary to play the part that he'd been trained to play, and he'd played it so well that he'd even convinced himself.  

And then he'd forgotten.  

He'd forgotten who he was, or rather, who he was supposed to be, and he'd become the person that he _really was.  He'd become Adam Thompson, a man with no memory of his past and no memory of the harsh code of life that Zack had forced himself to live by, and when he'd suddenly remembered who he was, Adam Thompson had discovered that Zack was a complete and utter stranger._

Oh, he remembered everything now.  That little computer chip in his brain had managed to put it all back together, but looking back at himself, he had discovered that the old Zack was a very sad, lonely, and bitter man, a man that he didn't want to be anymore, and so he had decided not to be him.

_I never would have let this happen, he thought to himself with a smile as he gazed over at Katya once again.  __I never would have gotten involved, and even if I had, I would have made a run for it.  That thought scared him a little.  He could have missed her, missed __this, and never known that there was more to life than running._

Lying back against the pillow, he let his eyelids close and planned his next move.  It was time for him to catch up with the rest of his siblings, and now that Manticore was gone, there were a lot of others who would need his help, too.  As soon as Katya wanted to leave, he'd see if he could track them down, he decided.  Only this time, when he left Seattle, he wasn't going to be alone.


	30. Epilogue

Epilogue

Scowling down at the files on his desk, Ames White studied the pictures spread out before him, pictures of the group of young X5s who had escaped in February of '09.  He recognized several of them from his latest tangle with 452.  It seemed as if they were all going to cause him trouble in the end.  

At the sound of a knock outside his door, he looked up to find Otto and motioned him to enter.  He watched as Otto lifted his head to glance around the room at the boxes of files that had just arrived, along with a grouchy reprimand from White's superiors. 

"So, how was the beach?" White asked.

"Same old, same old," Otto replied.  "I hear I missed some excitement.  I chose a bad time to go on vacation."

"Well, you had no way of knowing it would happen."

"And we're sure he was the one that tipped them off?"

White nodded.  "And then he vanished after burning every file in this office," he finished calmly.  He'd had his temper tantrum a few days ago, when he'd returned from the failed attempt to capture 452 and the others to find the remains of every file in his office in a scattered heap of ashes just outside the window.  Though he was still angry, he'd managed to work off most of his temper that night.  "The problem is that no one has a clue where he's gone.  Turns out that the family he had in Peoria doesn't exist.  Our bosses don't have a clue where to look, either."  A fact that wasn't going to keep White from looking, himself.  He glanced back down at the files, his eyes catching on the image of 452.  _If we'd known about you sooner, we would have taken care of you long before this, he silently promised the photograph__._

"It's a good thing we had copies of all those files.  He only set us back a day or two." 

White glanced up, a scowl crossing his features.  "A day or two that could mean life or death to innocent civilians out there."  Otto nodded, clearly silenced by his superior's sudden flare of temper.  He took a step backwards towards the door.

"I should be going.  I have a lot of files to catch up on."  He laid his hand on the doorknob.  White took a deep breath and let it out.  

"Otto, it's good to have you back," he said, his voice once more calm and controlled.

"Thank you, sir."

White watched as the door closed behind him, waited for a few moments to be sure that he wouldn't be interrupted, and then, glancing once more at the photos on his desk, he reached into his pocket and dialed a long distance number on his cell phone.  No one would answer, that he knew.  According to his sources, the person he was trying to reach was out of the country on a business trip, but his sources also said that he called back every few days to check his messages.  With a patience few had ever guessed he possessed, White listened as the phone continued to ring, smiling to himself as the message began.

_Hey, this is Ian.  I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave me a message, I'll call you back as soon as I can.  You know the drill . . . Then came the sound of the answering machine's electronic beep._

"So it's Ian now, is it?" White began, not bothering to identify himself.  "You've made yourself rather hard to find over the last few years."  He paused, trying to leave a moment of silence on the tape in which the listener could identify his voice.  "The conclave has been looking for you.  They need you, _we need you, and it's never too late to come back home.  The time is drawing near, and if you come back now, all will be forgiven.  Don't worry about finding us, we'll be in touch."_

"Fe'nos tol," he said, and then he disconnected and returned the phone to his coat pocket.

THE END

**_Tada!  Well guys, I finally finished.  (It took me a little while didn't it?  Sorry about that . . .)_**

**_Well, what do you think?  And don't worry, there is another work in progress, so this is more of a "to be continued," I guess.  Right now, I'm just trying to find the right title and trying to sort some of it all out in my head, but I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with the next one . . .(grins evilly)._**

**_Well, don't just sit there, REVIEW!  You know how I love those reviews, and there's not going to be another chapter of this to review, so now's as good a time as any, right?  ; )_**


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